


The Lonely Hands Club

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Star Trek Narsarya B [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: AU, Anal Sex Implied, Bickering, Chocolate Reference, Clueless Spock, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Farce, First Kiss, First Time, Friendship, Human Chess Game, Humor, Lonely McCoy, Lotus Eaters, M/M, Mind Drifting, Narcotic Plants, Narsarya B, Narsarya B "Land of the Lotus Flower", Narsarya B (Star Trek Series), Odyssey, Scheming Kirk, Slow Build, Snarky McCoy, Spock Clueless, Spock and Idioms, Star Trek Humor, idioms, spones - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-21 19:20:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7400422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ridiculousness has broken out on the Enterprise.  Spock and his sensitive Vulcan hands are in love with Dr. McCoy's healing hands, but not necessarily with the man who goes with them.  Lonely McCoy would be thrilled with a 'conscious' declaration of friendship from the aloof Vulcan.  If Spock offered more of a relationship, though, McCoy would probably be interested.  All would've evaporated in time, but their yearnings are detected by a bored Jim Kirk.  He decides to play Cupid for his friends by throwing them together more.  Will Spock and McCoy embrace Kirk's ideas?  And each other?  Will the narcotic effects of an exotic plant help them talk themselves into being in love?  Or will Kirk get bored with his human chess game and just go find a new planet for all of them to explore?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sara+Tsuzuki](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Sara%2BTsuzuki).



“Here‘s to a wonderful meal, and a truly charming dinner companion.” Leonard McCoy toasted Jim Kirk with the amusing rose wine that had gone so well with their hearty meal.

“Hear! Hear!” Kirk returned the toast.

It wasn’t often that the crusading adventurers got to dine like gentlemen and cater to their elegant, refined selves. McCoy, the sophisticated gentleman, and Kirk, the charming romancer, brought the culture out in each other. Their friend Spock, the haughty, mysterious, judgmental alien who nonetheless lent a certain elegance and refinement to any group with his studied courtliness, was absent. Too bad. He would’ve enjoyed this apartment conveniently provided by the elders of this newly discovered civilization for their visitors from the Starship Enterprise.

Kirk clicked McCoy’s wine glass with his own. “Always a pleasure to dine with a true Southern gentleman.”

McCoy gave Kirk a mellow smile. “There are so few of us in this part of the universe. I expect if we requested some more for company, though, this planet would supply them.”

“It’s come through pretty well for me in the ladies’ department.” Kirk smiled. “Sometimes it gets a little spooky. I feel like I’ve got a wishing well in front of me and a handful of lucky pennies. Whatever I ask for, appears.”

“But we’ve seen how it can betray us by letting us have too much of what we desire. Spock jeopardized his health by living on pure thought instead of food and liquids, now he‘s stuck back on the Enterprise in sickbay. We can’t even let him return down here until we’ve developed vaccines to counteract his allergies.”

“In the meanwhile, we could always send some of this delicious food up to him on the Enterprise.”

“Everything except the Virginia ham. I think I’ve finally gotten him over that meat craving he developed while he was down here.”

“Let’s see,” Kirk said, surveying the table. “He’d like the sweet potato casserole and the spinach timbales and the raspberry muffins.”

“And the charlotte russe in the frig.” McCoy frowned. “It all might be a little rich for him. I know I’m going to have to sleep it off.”

“Yeah. Sometimes it’s more like you two guys are grazing in a meadow rather than eating like real guys with all that healthy stuff you choke down.”

“You could try doing a little of what we do. Nobody will ever accuse you of grazing. And you probably won’t even notice the richness of this food.”

“I’m a gourmet.”

“You’re a glutton! This planet has spoiled you.”

“But I‘m so much fun to spoil,” he said with a lazy grin and a flirty voice.

“Where‘s a woman when you need one?”

“My question, exactly!”

“I mean, a woman to distract you.”

“Sounds like my kind of distraction.”

“I know. It’s a wonder I even got your attention long enough to have dinner with me.”

“I didn’t have to dress up for you.”

“Make me feel special,” McCoy grumbled.

“I'll be happy when Spock is better, and he can verbally spar with you again. I feel like part of a long married couple, and you aren’t even my type.”

“Your type being female or the Enterprise?” His blue eyes twinkled, and his humor was restored. “Or a Romulan warrior’s hairy ass?”

“That rumor is not true. It was a late night, I was really drunk when I left that bar, and I was in dire need of female companionship. Then I saw a dim figure in the shadows, apparently advertising her charms, and figured she was as ready to get acquainted as I was. I decided to skip the whole courtship part and went for the main action.“ He shrugged. “Let me tell you, it got real intense real fast. I thought she was just being playful. When we got out in the light enough to see, I thought it was a really ugly woman with stringy hair. Turns out the guy was just bent over trying to fix his shoe. And had I ever given him a surprise!”

“To say the least!" McCoy agreed with a chuckle. "I understand that’s why Romulans walk backwards to this day. None of them wants to risk turning their backs on you, especially at night. And none of them is bending over in your presence, for whatever reason!”

“I backed off fast when he turned and hollered. I still don’t know if that smell was his breath or the other end doing its own kind of hollering. I left fast, but apparently we had been observed.”

“And so a legend was born.“

“Somebody else had to have been there. I doubt if the Romulan guy would’ve spread it around. I know I didn’t. But soon the story was all over the galaxy. I think that’s one reason the Romulans are so pissed off at the Federation. And it was all a mistake.“

McCoy chuckled. “But what a feather in your cap if it were true. Those Romulans are mean, and you’d have to be quite a stud to take one of them on and live to crow about it.”

“No, thanks. That part of my anatomy is reserved strictly for the ladies. I’m not risking getting Kirk, Jr., slicked off by any Romulan’s rear end. I understand they’ve got razor blades rammed up there.”

“Maybe that’s just what it feels like to them when they’re suffering from hemorrhoids.”

“Or there really are razor blades!”

“Then I‘d hate to be their proctologist!”

By this time they were both roaring with laughter.

Kirk studied the glass in his hand. “Bones, I think this wine is pretty potent for a rose.”

“Let’s go sit in the easy chairs in front of the fireplace and let this wonderful dinner settle.” McCoy pushed back his chair and stood.

“A hearty meal and a comforting fire for a blustery day,“ Kirk said. “Another great illusion, seeing it‘s eternal spring outside the apartment.” 

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

“Shop talk?”

“Yes, and no.”

“Do I have to do my Captain thing?”

“Just your friend thing.”

“Good. I can handle that. I hope.”

“That makes two of us hoping.”

Kirk settled in the buttery soft leather of his easy chair. “We’ve got to have chairs like these all over the house. And working fireplaces in every room.”

“What house?”

“The one we’re buying someday, of course.”

“Oh, yeah. That house,” McCoy muttered, not quite believing in Kirk’s fantasies.

“The dream house,” Kirk said with a sigh.

“The house of dreams, don’t you mean?” McCoy corrected. “Lots of guys build them in their minds, but keep going with their careers so long that the real places never get built, let alone lived in.”

“We will, Bones. You and me and Spock.”

“Still want to get him and me under one roof, don’t you?”

Kirk sighed. “I like you guys and I like a challenge.”

“You must,” McCoy growled.

“I might have to put you two on different floors. If I need, I‘ll even build a separate wing for one of you, but we will all be together. Rest assured of that. Now, what’s on your mind?”

McCoy studied his wineglass. Now that he had his captain‘s attention, he was reluctant to start. “How can they do that, Jim? How can they make this taste so much like a fine rose, when I know it isn’t? How can they make it taste so much like something from home?“

“I don’t know, Bones. Maybe something here on the planet wants to please you.”

“Well, if it’s all just an illusion, I’m ready to play along. I like it here.” He looked thoughtful “That plant from down here? The one with the odd flower?“

Kirk smiled. “The one Spock liked to wear behind his right ear? The one that finally landed him in sickbay back aboard the Enterprise? Yeah, what about it?“

“We know it affected his behavior down here. Could it also have caused a change in his temperament?”

Kirk shrugged. “Sure. Why?”

“Something happened that you don‘t know about. A behavior of Spock’s back aboard the Enterprise that I didn‘t report.“

Kirk frowned. “You filed an incorrect entry in his medical record?”

“I just didn’t elaborate. Let’s just say it was for personal reasons.”

“Personal?”

“I didn’t want it down on his record about his odd behavior.”

“What odd behavior?“

McCoy breathed deeply, frowned, and thought, here we go. “When the two guards and I got him on the biobed in sickbay, he was in pretty bad shape. He was awfully weak and frail and seemed relieved that I was with him. He looked up at me, gave me what I can only describe as a sweet smile, told me how wonderful it was to see me again, thanked me for being there to help him, and murmured my given name.“

“Leonard?“

“It’s the first time I’ve ever heard him call me that.”

“Murmured?”

“Like a gurgling brook in a secluded glen in rural Georgia. Then he grabbed my hand and wouldn’t let go. I could’ve broken his hold, of course. A two-year-old child could have, but I didn’t want to weaken him further. I didn’t know how fragile he was mentally. But after what happened, maybe I shouldn’t have let things go as far as they did.“

“What things?“

“It's what he did to my hand." McCoy frowned. "He squeezed my hand gently, then proceeded to rub my palm with his index and middle finger.”

Kirk immediately looked alert, but he didn’t interrupt McCoy’s story. Kirk wanted to know where this story was headed. 

“Back and forth,” McCoy continued, “back and forth, with increasing pressure.”

Kirk caught his breath and straightened. Spock had been using McCoy’s hand in a very suggestive manner for a Vulcan.

“Then he rubbed the backs of my fingers with circular motions, especially the knuckles.”

Kirk frowned and mentally wiped sweat off his brow. He felt like a voyeur watching a couple having sex.

“Spock got a slapdash grin on his face and twined his fingers around and through mine, in and out, in and out, with increasing pressure, until our fingers locked. It took him several moments to do that, and he seemed to get a lot of comfort from it.”

Kirk let his breath out slowly. He might as well have experienced an orgasm from thinking about one of his own sexual adventures. 

“A Vulcan kiss?” Kirk asked in awe when he thought he could finally breathe again without making ragged sounds. 

McCoy nodded.

“He gave you a Vulcan kiss?” Kirk was still in awe.

McCoy was right. This was personal, very, very personal.

“But a Vulcan kiss! I’ve never gotten one of those from him,” Kirk remarked, half in jest, half in envy. “How did you get so lucky?”

“My question! I don’t know why in the hell he shared it with me!“

“He must’ve been missing you and wanted you to know.“ Kirk glanced at McCoy. “You do know that he was getting more than just comfort from that hand rubbing, don’t you?“

“I know what he was getting!“ He cooled. “I just don’t know why he wanted to get it from me.“

“Because he likes you,“ Kirk muttered, then frowned. “And, apparently, he likes you THAT WAY.”

McCoy blanched, groaned, rolled his eyes, and muttered one of his favorite expletives. “So, it wasn’t just my imagination.”

“If it was, you must have a helluva rich interior life! Whew!” Kirk wiped his brow. “Spock’s inhibitions must’ve really been lowered by the effects of that plant. I didn‘t realize you two were even to the ‘smiling at each other in greeting’ stage, let alone this!”

“We aren‘t!” McCoy growled.

“You aren‘t what I‘d call a natural couple. You know, like peaches and cream, peanut butter and jelly, love and marriage.”

“We’re more like fire and brimstone, death and destruction, war and chaos,” McCoy muttered.

“Yeah, that sounds more like you two,” Kirk continued. “Hmm. If the effects of that plant brought those tendencies out in him, it should’ve been obvious at other times, too. I never saw him propositioning guys on the planet, though. And there were plenty of our young, good looking crewmen down there. And all kinds of splendid examples of virile native masculine inhabitants were eager to be friendly. Probably some of them would’ve been willing to be friendly THAT WAY, too, if they’d been asked. Spock generally kept his hands behind his back, though. I never once saw him dallying with anybody’s fingers. Hell, I didn’t even see him pointing at anyone!“ 

“How could you? You were busy with their women. Remember?“

Kirk rubbed his sore groin. “Distinctly.“ He smiled in remembrance, then seemed to remember McCoy and his story. “Then what happened with you and Spock?”

“He murmured my name again, tucked my hand under his face, and went to sleep cradling me. I managed to slip my hand out without awakening him, although he protested slightly when my fingers finally left his skin. Then he curled up and didn’t stir for hours.” 

Kirk’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why, he even took you to bed with him! Figuratively, but still to bed. And he didn’t want to let you go! You old dog, you! You and Spock! I didn‘t realize! Always fighting! Ha! What a cover!” 

“It wasn’t a cover!” McCoy protested. “Our arguments were real!“

“Here I thought you two just couldn’t see eye to eye, and it’s been sexual tension all along. What is it for you two? A form of foreplay?”

“There was never any sexual tension!”

“How do you know?”

That stopped McCoy and made him think.

“Tell me, Bones,“ Kirk started intimately, “how do you feel when he smarts off something to you? Don’t you ever just want to haul off and punch him in that uppity mouth? Tie him up? Slap him around a little? Hmm? Show him who’s boss? Don’t you ever get so frustrated with him that you've wanted to grab him and shake him to listen to you?“ Kirk leaned in closer to McCoy. “Don’t you get so frustrated you want to grab him and kiss him just to shut him up?”


	2. Chapter 2

“Jim!”

Kirk leaned back. “That’s sexual tension, baby.” He wiped his brow. “Makes me break out in a sweat just thinking about it.” Kirk playfully punched McCoy in his ribs. “Never said a word! Why didn‘t you tell me?”

“There’s nothing to tell!“ McCoy declared in disgust. “That’s how out of his head he was! He didn‘t even know who I was!“ 

Kirk couldn’t resist raising an eyebrow, ala Spock, and smiling in a flirtatious way. “He ‘murmured’ your name, Sweetie. He knew.” 

McCoy let out a low growl and turned away. 

“How many of you Leonards are there out here, anyway? I believe you‘re the only real McCoy we‘ve got on this ship.” 

“I shouldn’t have told you. Now you're doing one-liners.”

Kirk got himself under control. “Sorry. The scenario startled me, that’s all.“ He shook his head. “You and Spock,“ he mumbled.

McCoy started to turn away again. “If you’re going to act like that--”

“Wait. Wait. I’ll be good. Promise.“ Kirk took a deep breath, then another. When he thought he could manage it, he glanced at McCoy, then collapsed in hopeless laughter.

McCoy started to turn away a third time, but Kirk caught his arm. “Sorry. Sorry. Too many images. All of them bizarre. Back to what you were telling me. I notice that you didn‘t pull away from his hands or try to stop him.”

“I was too startled. I didn‘t want to upset him, either. He was obviously in dire straits.” 

Jim's lips twitched. “Obviously,“ Jim mumbled, trying to keep the humor out of his voice. “Sounds like he solved HIS problem, though.” He didn’t dare look at McCoy with eyes he knew had to be sparkling.

“Jim. It wasn‘t like that.”

“Maybe not for you,” Kirk said to the wall as he turned away with twitching lips.

“I was simply trying to aid my patient.”

McCoy was killing him! Kirk bit down on the inside of his cheek and chanced a look at McCoy. He could control his lips, but his eyes were a hopeless case. He hoped that McCoy was understanding. “Such dedication.” He tried not to sputter with laughter. “Just how,” he paused for breath control, if nothing else, “how were you going to come to his aid, Doctor?”

“Jim--”

“Sorry. Sorry. But, seriously, how do you know what was going on in his mind?”

“That’s what I’ve been wondering.”

“Going on in his mind,” Kirk repeated, “or further south?” Kirk’s eyes twinkled. “Did you have to clean him up? Down there?”

“Jim!”

Kirk held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry. Sorry.”

“Who knows what was going on?” McCoy mumbled, just to fill the quiet. Then he saw Kirk‘s knowing, inquisitive grin. “What?!” he barked.

“Was it good for you, too?”

“Jim!”

Kirk held out his hands and fought to keep a grin off his face. “I’m just saying.” 

“He didn’t even know what he was doing!“

“Did you?” 

“What?”

“Did you know what he was doing to you?”

“Of course, I know what a Vulcan kiss is!”

“You say you didn’t stop him when he was making love to your hand. Did you ever consider it was because you didn’t want him to stop?” 

McCoy took the question seriously. “I’ve wondered that, too. It could’ve just been the effects of the flowers on him,” McCoy muttered, but somehow couldn‘t keep the hope out of his voice.

All of the mirth left Kirk’s face when he realized how important this was to McCoy. “And it could’ve been because he really missed you when he was down here.” Kirk studied his friend. “Would you want that to be true?” There wasn’t a sound in the room outside of their breathing in the quiet that ensued. “Would you want something more with Spock than just friendship?”

McCoy studied the floor, then finally nodded. Kirk let out a breath he hadn‘t realized he‘d been holding. 

The elephant in the room was recognized.

“Three weeks ago, I would’ve said ‘no,’” McCoy said. 

“But you’ve had time to think about what happened, and it’s starting to sound like something you might like, if you can only be brave enough to see if it were true?”

McCoy nodded. “I’ve never been that important to anyone. After two failed marriages, I’m pretty jaded. But I saw his face when he was holding my hand. He needed me. He treasured me. He was happy I was with him.” His eyes shone. “Me! Can you imagine it? Me!“ McCoy’s voice hushed. “His system had been completely compromised, and he was running on the barest minimum power he could muster and still survive. And he risked that energy to reach out to me. How could I turn him away? That final rejection might’ve put him over the edge, made him stop fighting to live. How could I deny anyone a lifeline? And he wasn’t just anyone, he was my friend. He didn‘t want you with him. He didn‘t want his father with him. He needed to be home. He needed to be with me. I must be very important to him.”

“Not the Enterprise?”

“At first I thought that’s what he meant by ‘home.’ Then, I thought he knew he needed medical attention. But I’ve decided differently.”

“Because you want so much for it to be true.” 

“Mine was the hand he held,” McCoy whispered stubbornly. “Mine was the name he called. I‘m the one he needed.”

Kirk studied his friend who perhaps wasn‘t too happy with his new projected responsibility, but who was in awe of the possibilities and wanted to gamble it was true. Because if it were true, the rewards would be so high. “Need is a powerful aphrodisiac,” Kirk mumbled, all the whole thinking that needing to be needed was a powerful aphrodisiac, too.

“I‘ve never even been sure he considered me to be a friend, and now this,” McCoy continued. “But, what if I’m wrong? I don’t want to lose whatever relationship I do have with him. I don’t want to take advantage of him in his compromised emotional state, either. And, I don’t want to make a fool out of myself.”

“Is this what this day has been about?” Kirk asked softly. “You wanted to get my spin on things and finally worked up the courage to ask what I think of it all?”

“Partly.“ He looked at Kirk fondly. “Thanks for listening. You’re a good friend, Jim.“ He sighed deeply. “Spock’s behavior could’ve all been an illusion caused by the allergy. He might’ve just thought he wanted Vulcan sex with me, and that need will cease to exist when he’s completely better.”

“Maybe,“ Kirk pondered his thoughts. “You‘re forgetting.”

“Forgetting what?”

“All of these mental exercises you two engage in?” He let his voice trail off.

“Yeah?”

“Like I said, it can come off to other people as sexual tension.”

McCoy barked his favorite expletive and turned away.

“I’m just saying.”

“I just get so frustrated with his mule-headed inability to see reason. You‘d think someone as intelligence as he is wouldn‘t be so thick-headed.”

“Maybe there’s a reason he acts that way.”

“Besides plain stubbornness? What? What reason?”

“Maybe he’s flirting with you.”

McCoy dropped his mouth open as his eyes popped.

“Come on, Bones! I see him yanking your chain. So does everyone else. That’s what makes it so funny. You can’t see it. He’s baiting you, and getting a kick out of it. Think back to seventh grade. The red-headed girl who sat in front of you during Miss Porter‘s lit class? Didn’t you want to get her attention?”

“She was a blonde pixie in Mr. Trumbull’s tenth grade math class. I was a late bloomer.” He smiled fondly in remembrance. “Zarabeth Phillips. I let her think that I couldn’t understand equations.”

“And why were you doing that?”

“To get her to talk to me, to let her know that I liked her, to get her atten--” his eyes popped open.

“--tion,” Kirk finished. “Attention. To get her attention.” He gave McCoy a knowing look. “Spock yanks your chain to get YOUR attention. He might not have even been aware of it himself until his inhibitions got lowered.”

The expletive and the turn away.

“You could do a whole lot worse, Bones.”

McCoy turned back. “He could do a whole lot better.”

“Maybe not in his eyes.”

“Stop making it sound so interesting. I get lonely, Jim.”

“I know you do. So does he.”

“How can he? He has so much company all by himself.”

“You surely know that aloofness is just part of his defenses, don’t you?”

“It’s working!”

“Don’t be bitter.” 

“How else am I supposed to be? He apparently lets you see a different side to him, Jim.”

“He and I aren’t in competition the way you two are. Maybe it’s because you’re so similar.” Kirk smiled fondly at McCoy. “You two social anomalies, you!”

“Why do you befriend us, then? Why does Super Stud Kirk hang out with two oddballs like us?”

“Because Super Stud Kirk needs you two oddballs. Simple as that. Needs you. Trusts you. Never wants to let you go. Couldn’t live without you. Doesn’t want to try. Bottom line. You‘re both mine. Forever. Couldn’t be happier. I‘ll fight to the death to keep you. My life for yours. In a heartbeat.” Kirk stared hard at McCoy without blinking. “Need it made any clearer than that? I can.”

“We’re quirky! You’ve said it yourself!”

“You’re both so much more than that. I need you both in my life. I love you both very, very much.” He straightened slightly and stiffened. “Just, not, in THAT WAY.“ He thought a moment. “When I’ve met all the ladies in the universe, then I might get interested in men. Not until then.” He considered. “You two guys would be first in line, though.“

“Thank you. I’ll put that in my treasure chest with all of the dried roses from forgotten lovers and old empty dance cards from proms I attended alone.“

“I don’t get your motor racing, huh? I suppose it’s because I don’t have pointed ears.“

“It’s because I wouldn’t have a chance with Super Stud Kirk. Too many women would be ahead of me.“

“Tell me, just what do you want from Spock, anyway?”

“I’d just like to know if I’m special to him.”

“Of course, you are.”

“I’m glad you can see it.”

Kirk frowned. “Maybe the word is wrong. Your relationship is unique.”

“Yeah, not special.”

“Just how do you see your relationship?”

“I wouldn’t dignify it by calling it a friendship. Far from it. He pisses me off with that haughty attitude, yet stimulates me with the scope of his scholarship. I feel alive and frustrated all at the same time around him. Every time we discuss something, I want to correct him. But, at the same time, I want to learn more from him. He’s one of the most intelligent and yet most naïve creatures I’ve ever been around. I feel that it would take a lifetime just to understand a tenth of what he knows, but that knowledge needs to be tempered with humanity. I respect his scholarship, though, and realize his struggles with himself by associating with us. I feel drawn to him on an intellectual level, but repulsed by his lack of empathy for us mere Earthlings. But I protect our relationship, too. I wouldn’t take what he says from anyone else. Not even you.”

“That’s beautiful, Bones,” Kirk said with awe. “You two have beautiful souls. You should be together, not fighting.”

“Now you’re playing matchmaker?”

“For my two best friends? You betcha.” He straightened and pulled back. “But I’m thinking, maybe not.”

“What?”

“I think I was wrong. If there had been any truth to it, you would’ve stormed out of here long ago.”

“Reverse psychology?”

“That’s right. If there was something there, you would’ve been denying it all over the place. But what I’m seeing is a guy who is flattered by some exotic attention and is hoping a diversion might cure some of his loneliness. But I’m betting he’s wise enough to know that all the people in the universe can’t erase the loneliness inside him. He has to do that for himself.”

McCoy nodded. “Of course, you’re right.”

“And about this thing that happened between you and Spock. Take it for what it was. He was half-drunk from the effects of that flower, you represented a sanctuary for him, and he hadn’t seen you for days. It was his human side showing through, that‘s all. We rarely get to see it, so feel privileged.“

“You’re right, of course. I don’t mind representing home and security.“ 

Maybe Spock did and maybe he didn‘t, Kirk considered, but decided not to pursue it. It seemed to be a delicate subject with McCoy. Kirk wondered why McCoy had even mentioned it. Probably to get Kirk’s spin on it. And when Kirk let him know, McCoy had been embarrassed. The doctor might’ve figured the story would eventually reach Jim’s ears anyway, the gossip train being what it was on the Enterprise. McCoy and Spock hadn’t been in sickbay alone. Nurse Chapel and the two guards had to have witnessed the strange scene between the doctor and the alien.

Then Kirk noted that he’d let his mind drift and had missed part of what McCoy was saying. “What?”

“I was just saying, thanks for listening. That’s what make you so special.“

“You’re special, too, Bones. Even if you did get a Vulcan kiss out of Spock before I did.” 

McCoy grinned. “I sure as hell did, didn’t I?”

But Spock and McCoy had come across Jim Kirk's personal radar. The more he thought about them, the more intrigued he got. Hmm. Spock had a thing about McCoy, especially his hands. McCoy wanted Spock's friendship, maybe any way he could get it. Hmm.

Maybe Kirk was bored. Maybe he just wanted to push things along for his friends. Whatever his motive, he started scheming.


	3. Chapter 3

“Mr. Spock. A moment. My quarters.”

“Of course, Captain.” Spock followed Kirk into his quarters and took the chair that Kirk indicated to him.

“Well, how are you feeling by now?”

“Much better, thank you. And happy to be back on duty.”

“Yes. And a relief for all of us to be leaving our mysterious planet and its exotic flowers behind. Too much of paradise finally gets old and apparently can overload our systems, as we regrettably discovered in regards to you.”

“Quite so, Captain, but I shall miss it, though.”

“Oh?” Kirk folded his arms and studied his First Officer.

“The philosophies of the inhabitants were quite advanced and logical and very interesting to study.”

Kirk unfolded his arms. “I agree. I’m recommending future return trips to the planet for the exchanging of ideas.” He smiled at something McCoy had said. “Besides their philosophies for our scholars to discuss, their agricultural program might be advantageous to the farmers of Earth.”

“I would be happy to be a part of those return missions, but I understand that they might not be in my best interests.”

“Not until vaccines can be developed to prevent the near-disaster we experienced with you. I didn’t realize there was a problem until it was almost too late. Again, I apologize most sincerely for that.”

“Please, don’t, Captain. I do not hold you accountable.”

“But I do. A gun or a crossbow pointed at you I might’ve realized could harm you, but not the pollen of a lovely flower. I never saw it coming, as I’m sure you didn’t. I am indeed sorry.”

Spock remembered that it was important to Earthlings to apologize for their misdeeds or oversights, either real or imagined. And that it was equally important for the supposed injured party to accept that apology for both of their benefits. He believed that Dr. McCoy had not so subtly pointed these facts out to him on more than one occasion when Dr. McCoy had been trying to apologize for something, and Spock had not been as receptive as the doctor seemed to require. Spock had been led to understand that these interrelating series of actions of apology and acceptance would give closure to both parties and create a sense of warmth and comradeship between them. Strange rituals these Earthlings seemed to require. Stranger still were their contradictory emotions that swung wildly and were mysteriously unpredictable. It was as if the whole human species suffered from Premenstrual Syndrome, not just their women of child-bearing age.

Kirk’s guilt did not seem logical. It had been inhumanly possible for him to have been with everyone in the landing party all of the time. But Kirk apparently felt that responsibility had been his, and he had not performed it. Spock had to ease that guilt, whether it made sense to Spock or not. He could just hear Doctor McCoy admonishing him. I’d expect you to be callous to me, you green blooded hobgoblin, but not to Jim! Be a little more decent to the best friend you’ve got! For some reason that Spock couldn’t fathom, that opinion of McCoy’s for his actions to Kirk stabbed Spock. He thought of McCoy as a friend, too, but apparently he hadn’t let McCoy know that. Where had he committed that oversight? He thought McCoy would just know.

Spock frowned in thought, then quickly erased it or Kirk would think he was frowning at him and his apology.

“Thank you, Jim.” He said his captain’s first name awkwardly and stilted as he always did, for it still was awkward to call a superior officer by the given name. But that was another thing Earthlings did when they were being intimate with each other. “I appreciate your concern for me, then and now. And I most certainly do not hold you responsible for what happened to me, but I do appreciate your saying so.”

The relief on Captain Kirk’s face was palpable. “Thank you, Mr. Spock. I appreciate your saying that. It makes me feel better.” He smiled warmly at his friend.

“You are welcome,” Spock said carefully and hoped he had the form and manner correct. These Earthlings and their rituals! One had to be so careful to perform their rituals exactly so that the delicate feelings of the Earthlings would not be injured. What an existence that must be to be subject to so many feelings and shades of feelings. It must be exhausting just to live through one of their days of interrelating to so many individuals with so many rules. No wonder that Earthlings did not have the time to ponder philosophy and higher thinking.

Of course, he understood this angst because he was, after all, half human and subject to these mood swings and soul searching about relationships with other people. How puzzling it must be to his father, a pure Vulcan, after all of these years of dealing with his mother, a pure Earthling. How great must be the love of his father for his mother, and how great must be her patience for a being who, by nature, could not return the boundless love she offered. Yet his parents seemed happy together and utterly devoted to each other. Seeing them in their isolated cocoon of happiness was one reason that he had never completed the ceremony of Kolinar to wipe emotion from himself forever. His parents knew something that he did not know, so he struggled to understand.

Another reason for not completing the ceremony was that he did not want to lose the special feelings he had for Kirk and others aboard the Enterprise. For as erratic as emotion seemed and for how it exhausted Earthlings, Spock realized it gave them depth of experience. Earthlings, in their sorrows and elation, defeats and triumphs, knew they were living. Not only living, but advancing. Spock mentally lifted an eyebrow. Prospering, if you will. Emotion lent color and texture to the lives of Earthlings, and Spock did not want to cheat himself out of that experience.

Kirk’s smile broadened, and the captain gazed at his First Officer with affection.

Spock returned the smile benignly, but at the same time felt an unbidden warmth spread through him. Then his own smile became sincere. Kirk saw the alien’s genuine smile and laughed. Spock could see how much Kirk appreciated this simple thing that Spock had done for him. That was when Spock realized that there were no simple gestures, if they were given and received sincerely. And it did not matter how many times these rituals were observed. If done correctly, they were mutually rewarding. In fact, frequent exchanges of such rituals were not only suggested, but recommended, for the benefit of all. And the procedures seemed to have positive results.

Maybe the thinking of the Earthlings had some merit, after all, especially if Spock could do so much for his friend Kirk in a single sincere smile.

Thank you, Doctor McCoy, Spock thought. You were right. For once.

Another warmth washed through him, not as strongly as for the Captain, but still a warmth. That warmth truly surprised him for it had been for Doctor McCoy. But Spock most certainly did not plan to let the doctor know about it or the cause. Better not to let the doctor know he was ever right. Spock did not know why, but he could not extend that courtesy to the doctor.

Spock also was not so dense that he did not realize the lack of closure between him and the doctor. Some chasms are too wide, though.

Kirk was continuing his tale of Spock’s spiraling path downward toward death. It seemed to be something he had to do, somehow cathartic, another ritual to be observed. “Your body was ceasing to function by not fully utilizing the foods you were eating. I should have realized something was wrong when you were ingesting meats as fast as they could be served to you. Steaks, chops, whole chickens, it all went down your greedy gullet. Your plate was piled high with the bones, and you were looking around for more first-class protein.”

Spock shivered at the thought, then confessed, “I enjoyed every sinful bite and welcomed whatever was offered to me. The inhabitants could be very accommodating in that regard. Their powers of creating items from our worlds were a remarkable illusion and quite comforting.”

“Yes,” Kirk agreed slowly, as he recalled the willing and nubile maidens and elegant women who had come to him, compliant and eager. “Anything we wanted, we got. We thought of it as a paradise, but any type of our excesses was overdone. I don’t know if we’ll be able to perfect a vaccine for that.”

“I believe the discipline of the mind should rule the body.”

Kirk smiled softly. “But, oh, the pleasures of the body, Mr. Spock!”

“Indeed. I believe that is what got us into this mess, Captain.”

“You’re right, Mr. Spock. And it took Dr. McCoy to bail us out.”

Spock gave a noncommittal look to Kirk and slightly shrugged his shoulders.

“Come on, Spock, you’ve got to give the Devil his due!”

“That idiom you do not need to explain. The meaning you used is quite clear, precise, and, may I say, correct.”

“Come on, Spock, admit it! He saved your sorry ass!”

Spock gave him a haughty look.

“Uh, let me rephrase that.”

“Please do, Captain.”

“McCoy did a helluva job saving you.”

“I realize that I am quite indebted to him, although I admit remembering very little of the entire incident.”

“I’ll tell you how worried he was. That first day you were back, he was NICE.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “That was remarkable, indeed.”

“Nice to everyone, especially me. It didn’t last, though. When you started to rally, he turned into an old bear coming out of hibernation too early and too hungry for his own good and thinking that my hide looked like a tasty snack.”

Spock shrugged at the idiom. “Sounds normal.”

“He sure as hell wasn’t going to take it out on you, his holy patient! Oh, no! He would’ve fought anything the universe tossed at him, and won, just to protect you. He would’ve put a sow hog with a day old litter to shame when it came to protecting you. Of course, that all evaporated when you left sickbay.”

Spock rolled his eyes. “I know.” He leaned toward Kirk. “It is like he stored it up, waiting until I was a worthy opponent.”

Kirk nodded in agreement and rolled his own eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Wanna see the scars of the tooth marks and scratches I got after you rallied? I wondered where all of his solicitude for me had gone. Of course, he might’ve been nice that first day because I felt so guilty.”

“Logical. He is ever the doctor concerned about his patients. If you go to him with a problem and he is extra gentle with you, that is the time to be alarmed. That means that you are doomed and beyond the help of his medicine.”

Kirk nodded in agreement, then glanced quickly at Spock. “I don’t suppose you remember all his sweetness toward you when you were recovering?”

“There was one night when he came back from drinking with you. He was very aromatic and fussed around me, even tucked me in. I believe the sickbay staff said he clucked around like an old sitting hen with one chick.”

Kirk grinned. “Good description. That’s the way he was treating you, alright. You could’ve been due for a well deserved court martial, but he wouldn’t have let anyone touched you, not even Federation brass. Tell me, do you remember when you were brought back from the planet? You were awfully weak and I kicked myself from here to Sunday for not noticing. I’ll never be able to tell you how sorry I am about that.”

Two apologies, Spock thought. He must have really been worried about me and feels very guilty. Spock’s second thought was, Interesting idiom. I’d like to see the Captain kicking himself for that duration, and I would like to observe how he would propose to do that kicking. Not even Vulcans possess that degree of flexibility. A third thought was, The idioms that Captain Kirk uses do seem to concern themselves a lot with the posterior of the human anatomy, especially his own.

“Spock?” Kirk said anxiously. “Is something the matter?”

These Earthlings, Spock thought, and their constant need for reassurance! “Sorry, Captain. My mind drifted.”

“I’ve noticed that lately. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I am fine, Captain. My attention simply wondered. And please do not concern yourself further about your lack of observing my actions on the planet. I believe your own behavior was somewhat suspect itself. In a sense, your mind was drifting away from duty and toward the charming ladies of Narsarya B.”

Kirk drew back. “Well, I suppose. But it was entirely normal. For me. Just, maybe, intensified.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “That could be an apt description, I suppose.“

Kirk nodded. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,“ he agreed.

“Am I correct in assuming that in a little under a year’s time, there might be a lot of little Captain Kirks being born back on that planet?”

Kirk grinned modestly. “I don’t know the length of the gestation period of the females on that planet, but, yes, your hypothesis would have sound reasoning behind it. I certainly tried my best to bring up the population of their world.”

“Congratulations, then. But might I suggest that you not return to that planet until well past the time for supporting the upbringing of any such offspring?”

“A wise suggestion, Mr. Spock. And very sound reasoning.”

Spock nodded graciously.

“But are you sure you’re okay? This ‘drifting’ of your mind just now, are you sure you’re not relapsing?”

Spock sighed inwardly. These Earthlings and their constant fears! He’d risk more than a mental eye roll, but Kirk was watching him too anxiously. And the last thing Spock wanted to do was to insult Kirk.

“I assure you, Captain, that I am quite alright.”

“I’d feel better about it if you were monitored for awhile. I’m recommending that you regularly report to sickbay for routine analysis by Dr. McCoy himself.”

Spock stared hard ahead so he really wouldn’t do an eye roll. He couldn't even risk a blink.

“Spock? Are you okay? Your eyes are bugging.”

McCoy’s favorite expletive popped into Spock’s mind. It seemed entirely appropriate for this situation. “I assure you, Captain, that my being monitored will be quite unnecessary. I am competent that Dr. McCoy’s many talents will be required in other, more useful medical practices.”

“That will also help me with a concern I have, and your being monitored would be an appropriate reason for your frequent appearances in sickbay.”

“Sir?”

“Dr. McCoy’s behavior concerns me.”

“As well it should.”

“No, no, I’m being serious here.”

“I am, too.”

Kirk frowned. Was Spock deliberately being oblique? It sounded more like a conversation Kirk would have with McCoy instead of the astute Vulcan.

Spock noted Kirk’s seriousness, and a tiny worry line appeared between Spock’s eyebrows. “Captain? Is Dr. McCoy experiencing some sort of problem?”

Kirk heard the apprehension in Spock’s voice. He wanted Spock concerned, not panicked. He wondered if Spock heard the same apprehension he did. Probably not.

Kirk looked thoughtful. “It’s nothing I can pinpoint yet. That’s why I need your help. Let’s just call it an uneasy feeling I’m having about him.”

“Sir?” At least Spock had calmed.

“He might be experiencing residual effects of the planet’s allergens himself.”

“How is his condition presenting, Captain?” Spock was once again the efficient, impersonal Science Officer.

“He seems melancholy and withdrawn. Wistful, even. Quiet. Won‘t talk.”

“Strange, indeed. Generally, he is eager to talk. He expounds whether the other party is interested, or not. Generally, I cannot get him to shut up.”

“That’s why I thought you could do this when no one else could. You two converse a lot. He wouldn’t suspect a thing. Look, I don’t want him to realize that we are concerned. I want to observe him and encourage him, but I can’t be with him as much as I’d like. But if you were also helping-- Spock, this would be perfect!” he declared, as if a solution had just occurred to him. 

“Captain, I fail to understand--”

“Let him monitor you.”

“But, why?”

“The mind drifting thing. See? It’s happened again. Spock, I’m worried about you. You’d forgotten already. I was just discussing the monitoring.”

Spock pondered. “Oh.”

Kirk was off, pacing again. “While he‘s monitoring you, you can be watching him for me. Drawing him out, encouraging him to talk, listening to what he says. Just don’t get in any philosophical debates that could dissolve into arguments.”

“I assure you, Captain, the arguments are all one-sided. He merely disagrees with sound theory and expounds on it. That is hardly my fault.”

“I know. We don’t need any spikes in his blood pressure, though. And we don’t need World War Three breaking out on this ship, either. The body count would be horrendous. And most of the victims would be innocent, just like the victims of the first two world wars back on Earth.” 

“Would my behavior not be suspect?”

“That’s the beauty of it! You’d be a patient! Just be nice and diplomatic and concerned. I believe he will respond to us, and we can heal him with time. I would hate to recommend an extended leave of absence for him. He’d hate that, and we need him here on the Enterprise.” He looked hard at Spock. “We can do this for our friend, can’t we, Spock? Be kind and concerned and supportive?”

“He will think I am affected by a powerful hallucinogenic, for certain,” Spoke said dryly.

Kirk had to bite the inside of his mouth. Spock was a walking poster child for unconscious humor.

Spock sighed. “But I will try to help him.”

“Good! Good! That’s all I can ask.”

After Spock left, Kirk sat back in his chair with a contented sigh. He hadn't known exactly how this plan was all going to come together when he'd invited Spock into his quarters. But he'd known he'd get inspired somehow, and he had. Sometimes he amazed even himself with his brilliance. Now, to kick back and let the plot thicken. Oh, but this was going to be fun! A battle of minds. And nobody knew but Kirk that a battle was going on.

“Your move, gentlemen.”


	4. Chapter 4

The door to his office in sickbay whished open, and McCoy looked up from his desk to see Spock enter, walk toward him, and stand almost at attention looking straight ahead.

Now, what? McCoy wondered. Aloud, he growled, “Well, what do YOU want?! I’m a doctor, not a mind reader. Spit it out, Commander! I‘m busy here.”

“I was to report to you, Dr. McCoy.”

“What the hell for?!” McCoy roared.

“To be monitored on a daily basis.”

“Monitored?! For what?!”

Spock relaxed and gazed down at him with a disdainful look. “I am not deaf, Doctor, nor do I wish to be. I can hear you quite well without your shouting.”

McCoy tossed a pencil on the desk. “Sorry. Now, what’s all this about your being monitored?”

“Captain Kirk surmised I might be relapsing from the effects of the flower on the planet and should be watched. He thought my attention was drifting.”

McCoy frowned. “Well, are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Relapsing! For heaven’s sake, man! You’re the one who introduced the term into the conversation not one minute ago! Not me!”

Spock straightened and looked ahead once more with his hands behind his back. “And my ears are still working, Doctor. For the moment.”

“Sorry. Maybe Jim has a point about that drifting,” he muttered. “You can’t concentrate worth a damn.“ He threw a hand in the general direction of the lab. “Go see Nurse Chapel. She can fix you up with a monitor, and you can report to her as often as you want. She won’t mind. She even likes you.” He picked up his pencil again. “Now, go on. Get out of here. I have something important to do.”

“Doctor McCoy--” 

McCoy looked up. “Are you still here?!”

“I cannot report to Nurse Chapel, today, or any other day, while I am being monitored.”

“And why the hell not?!”

“Captain Kirk said I was to report to you, and you, alone.”

“What?!”

“He wants a precise accounting, I suppose.”

“Nurse Chapel is very precise.”

“From you. He said from you.”

McCoy tossed his pencil aside once more, jumped to his feet, and pushed himself into Spock‘s face. “Me?!”

“Surely the concept is not beyond your comprehension.” He glanced at McCoy. “Is it?”

“Of course, not!”

“Then, perhaps, your capabilities?”

“Now, you’re being impudent!”

“He apparently seems to have more faith in your drums and rattles than I do. I am merely following orders. I suggest, Doctor, that you follow orders, too. My orders come from Captain Kirk himself, as I am certain yours do.”

“Well, Captain Kirk himself is not in charge of this sickbay! I am!”

Spock looked squarely at him. “May I remind you that Captain Kirk is in charge of this whole ship? Now, unless you want to get out and walk, I suggest you comply. If you choose to leave, however, I suggest that you be prepared to take a lot of oxygen canisters with you. It is quite a walk back to Earth from this part of the galaxy, and your chances of hitchhiking out here will be about the same as a snowball‘s in Hell.”

McCoy stared at him, then pulled back. “You can use idioms, now?”

“A few. While colorful, they are confusing. They are not logical.”

McCoy gave him a mocking smile. “Maybe we Earthlings like them that way.”

“At least that is a partially logical answer.”

“I didn’t intend for it to be logical!”

“May I say that you are succeeding, Doctor? Now, that is not logical.”

“Maybe it is from my side of the desk.”

“What desk?” Spock asked in confusion. “There is no desk between us. The only desk in this room is yours, and it is behind you.”

“Are you deliberately being dense?!”

“I am trying to be logical. And please do not raise your blood pressure.”

“My damned blood pressure is my own damned business, Commander!”

“Of course, Doctor,” Spock said softly. “Do you want to come back to your desk now, and sit down for awhile? May I have Nurse Chapel bring you something soothing to drink? Perhaps some time alone with the lighting subdued would be restful for you. Here, let me help,” he offered as he took McCoy’s arm.

McCoy shook off his hand. “Stop coddling me!”

“Yes, Doctor. Just, please--”

“I know! I know! My damned blood pressure!” He took a deep breath, but still looked cranky. “Well, come on. If we have to do this by orders from Captain Kirk himself, we’ll do it! I’ll get you hooked up to a monitor and get some readings to establish your base line. What are you doing now?!” he demanded as Spock grabbed his arm again.

“I thought you might step on that pencil and fall.”

“What pencil?!”

“The one you threw on the floor a moment ago.”

McCoy twisted his arm out of Spock‘s grip. “I did not throw the pencil on the floor! It chose to fall there on its own volition. I merely released it.“

“Ah, at last, an astute philosophical premise. You have learned from me.“

“That’s a matter of personal opinion. And about that damned pencil on the floor. You could’ve just said something about it, you know, instead of mauling me,” he grumbled as he sidestepped the offending pencil that had so unwittingly caused a rip-snorting argument between the two men. In the process of sidestepping, though, he threw himself slightly off balance and weaved unsteadily.

Spock grabbed his arm again. “Are you alright, Doctor?”

“Of course, I’m not alright!” He shook off Spock’s hand a third time. “You’re mauling me again! You’ve got a hold of my arm and are trying to lead me around like an invalid! What’s gotten into you, anyway?! Are you trying to make me think I’m ready for a retirement home?!”

“Sorry, Doctor,” Spock said in as soothing a voice as he could muster. “I was just trying to be helpful.”

The door to McCoy‘s office whished open and closed as they walked into the main part of sickbay. “I don’t need that kind of help, thank you,” he muttered as he led Spock to a biobed. “Sit here.”

“Might I offer some helpful advice then, Doctor?” Spock asked as he sat.

“Sure,” McCoy grumbled as he dug around for his equipment. “What is it?”

“Perhaps you should get your hearing examined.”

McCoy straightened and stared at him.

“You seem to be having some problems with your hearing today. That is why you keep raising your voice, is it not?” he asked innocently. 

In the next moment, Spock feared he had caused the spike in McCoy’s blood pressure that Captain Kirk had wished to prevent. Spock had not realized that what he considered to be a helpful suggestion would sound like a taunt to McCoy. 

The good doctor was not shy in expressing his opinion of Spock‘s idea.

 

“I believe I may have failed with your request, Captain,” Spock said as he stood holding his tray as he looked down at Kirk in the cafeteria.

“What’s that? Here, sit down and eat your lunch before I get in trouble with your physician about your lack of food. What do you have there? Carrot juice? Veggie burger? Mashed potatoes? Pretend you don’t see me eating this pork chop with gravy and dressing, okay?”

Spock studied Kirk’s plate. “I am not the one who is going to get in trouble with Dr. McCoy about my food choices.”

“You have mashed potatoes, too.”

“But mine are not hidden beneath a sea of butter.”

“Ha, ha, Mr. Spock. Thank you for your levity.”

“I assure you, Captain, I was not trying to be humorous.”

“I know, Mr. Spock. Oh, I know. Your sense of humor, and I’m sure you have one somewhere, must be so dry that some day you actually will be pulling my leg, and I’ll not realize it.”

“I assure you, Captain. I am nowhere close to your leg.”

“Well, yeah, sure,” Kirk mumbled.

“And I do believe you should be more cautious with your dietary choices.”

“Shut up, Spock, I’m trying to enjoy this.” He shoveled another fork-load of chop, gravy, potato, and dressing into his mouth.

Spock tried not to grimace at the gluttony, but failed. “Sorry, Captain.” Whether he was apologizing for what he’d said or for the grimace was unclear.

“That’s why it’s called a guilty pleasure,” Kirk explained as he shielded his food from prying eyes.

Spock considered Kirk‘s stealthy behavior. “Aptly named.”

“Don’t worry,” Kirk said with a wink. “I’ll work out longer.”

“Will that not just make you hungrier for your next meal?”

“Sometimes your logic, Mr. Spock, can be very exasperating.”

“Why is that, Captain?”

Because it’s true, Kirk wanted to admit, but didn’t.

“Never mind. Now, what is this about failing my request?”

“Your request concerning Dr. McCoy.”

“Oh, yes! In what way do you feel you failed me?”

“His blood pressure may well have been on its way to spiking before I left sickbay.”

“But he will be monitoring you?”

“Everyday.”

“Not Nurse Chapel, or anyone else?”

“No. Doctor McCoy.”

“Good. Good. Did you notice any odd behavior from him?”

“His prose was, what I believe is termed, purple.”

Kirk shrugged. “Nothing new there. Did you stay away from philosophy?”

“I did. He did not. Or what I assume to be his version of philosophy. It took a great deal of restraint on my part not to correct him, Captain.”

“That’s admirable, Spock. He’s playing right into my plan.”

“What plan is that, sir?”

“Oh.” Kirk caught himself. “Ah, the plan to support him and draw him out, of course. You’re doing a great job, Mr. Spock!”

“I fail to see it, Captain. But I do not have your insight, either, or know your plan in its entirety. There was something else I noticed about Dr. McCoy, though.”

“What’s that?”

“When he got excited, it looked like he had a heartbeat in his throat. It was located just below his left jaw, between his ear and chin, at the site of the carotid artery.”

“His little pulsey thing.”

“Pardon, sir? I do not believe I know that medical term.”

“It isn’t. But you gotta admit, that’s what it looks like when it goes jumping around. It does that when he gets really excited.”

Spock grunted and nodded in agreement. “It is in a very vulnerable spot. Yet, intriguing, also.”

Kirk quieted and let Spock contemplate McCoy’s throat with its little pulsey thing.

“Perhaps that is where his heart is located, Captain.”

“Pardon?”

“You know, some people talk about having their hearts in their throats? It appears that may have happened to Doctor McCoy, and it has not positioned itself back to where it goes, yet.”

“Leave it to you to finally catch us up on our own idioms.”

“I do believe I am learning, Captain.”

“You want the raspberry pie?” Kirk asked as he stood. “I’ll grab you a piece while I’m getting mine.”

“Make that an orange, Captain, and I will join you. It will be a healthier choice for you, too.”

“You know, there are times I could close my eyes and swear that you’re Leonard McCoy.”

“Please, Captain, not while I am eating.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Boy, I‘m so hungry I could eat a horse, Jim!” McCoy declared as they settled into the chairs in the cafeteria.

Kirk looked suspiciously back at the selection bar. “You might’ve gotten the chance. What is this? Mystery Meat Day? What was that specialty, anyway?”

“Never trust anything labeled Jamaican Surprise. The surprise is if there are any Jamaicans who survived it.”

“Now, what is this you wanted to discuss?”

“Do you really think Spock is relapsing, Jim?” McCoy asked as they scooted their food around and prepared to eat.

“That’s why I sent him to you, Bones. I’m the Captain of the Starship Enterprise, not its Chief Medical Officer,” he mocked one of McCoy‘s signature statements.

“Yeah. Yeah. I suppose.”

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Maybe Spock’s drifting syndrome is catching,” Kirk mumbled as he shoveled a forkful of lasagna into his willing mouth. “His relapsing problem, remember?”

“Oh, that.” McCoy looked thoughtful. “So far, the daily monitoring shows nothing abnormal physically.”

“Emotionally?”

McCoy gave him a very tolerant look. “Come on, Jim, we’re talking Spock here.”

“Oh, yeah, well,” Kirk grunted. “Just testing the waters. I thought maybe he might’ve broken out in a tap dance or proposed a panty raid in the women’s quarters. Then we’d know for sure that he had relapsed.” He speared more lasagna with his fork. “How’s he doing mentally?”

“Mentally, I’m concerned.” 

Kirk shot him a look. “Oh?”

McCoy frowned. “It’s the way he’s acting toward me.”

“Oh? How’s that?” Kirk tried to asked as nonchalantly as he could, then remembered he had to display the right amount of concern, not too much, not too little. He looked at McCoy with a tiny worry line between his brows. “What have you noticed?”

“He’s decided he has to protect me! Concerned about my blood pressure! Grabbing my arm to prevent a fall! Saving me from pencils lurking on the floor! Being over solicitous! Pandering to me! Soothing me!” He leaned forward and looked hard at Kirk. “Not challenging anything I say!”

“Sounds questionable, for sure.”

“I deliberately spouted a wild-eyed hypothesis the other day, something the most clueless Freshman taking Psych 101 could shoot holes through, and do you know what he did?!”

Kirk did know because Spock had told him, but he couldn’t let McCoy know that. “What?”

“He raised that damned eyebrow, looked profound, and said that I might be right at that! What has gotten into that alien head of his?! It’s certainly not common sense!”

“Maybe he’s just trying to be nice to you.”

“Him? Nice? Now, that would get me suspicious.”

“Come on, Bones. Give the guy a break. He’s trying to thank you the only way he knows how. He was pretty concerned about himself back on that planet, and you brought him back to health.”

“I sure didn’t save his life, though,” McCoy muttered as he ate.

“But to him, you did. Some people can’t say things as easily as you or I can, that’s why we have to let them show us. Have the humanity to do that for him. You’re a big enough man to do that, aren’t you?”

“Well, I suppose. And I guess he really did keep me from stepping on that pencil.”

“See? He does think something of you, Bones. I told you he did.”

“I suppose.” He glanced at Kirk’s plate to change the subject. “You should’ve taken the salad instead of that lasagna. You’ve been flirting with a few extra pounds lately.”

“Training exercises today in the gym. I’ll need my strength.”

“You’ll need a stretcher if you keep on shoveling that junk into yourself!”

“I don’t need my own personal physician yammering at me when I'm trying to eat! Let me enjoy my food!”

“That food will put you in the ground! Then your own personal physician will be attending your well-deserved funeral! I can read your tombstone now: Here Lies James T. Kirk, Captain of the Starship Enterprise and Champion Eater. He Was a Mighty Space Explorer, But He Dug His Grave with His Mouth! And Gladly!”

“Damn it, Bones! Just shut up and let me eat my damned dinner!” A movement caught his eye and he looked past McCoy’s shoulder. “Mr. Spock! Over here!” He saw McCoy flinch, and Kirk’s eyes shone in triumph. “Now, we’ll get the subject changed! He‘ll probably want an update on your health.”

“Between his concern about me and your lack of concern about yourself, I’ve lost my appetite.“ McCoy shoved his dinner aside. “And I’ll get my Sunday shoes shined,” he muttered. “Don’t want to be caught unprepared when you‘re struck down. It shouldn’t take long. Not when you’re so determinedly working toward it.”

“Spock! Here!” Kirk hollered. “And make it fast,” he muttered under his breath.

Spock approached, holding his tray. “Captain,” he said to Kirk, then glanced slightly at McCoy. “Doctor.”

“Mr. Spock, so good to see you!” Kirk greeted heartily. 

McCoy didn’t even acknowledge him and looked aside.

“So, sit down, Mr. Spock!” Kirk invited. “Take a load off!”

“A load of what, Captain?” Spock asked in confusion.

McCoy snorted. “Sure hope it isn’t what the good captain has a load of,” he muttered.

Spock glanced at him in puzzlement, then studied the seating arrangement. The seat beside Kirk was stacked full of Kirk‘s belongings. The only chair unoccupied was beside McCoy whose body language told Spock that he wasn‘t welcomed.

“I will sit elsewhere, Captain.”

“Nonsense! Pile down there beside Bones. He won’t mind.”

“Doctor?” Spock asked stiffly, looking down at McCoy. “If I may?”

McCoy muttered a noncommittal consent and adjusted himself to allow Spock to sit.

“Isn’t this nice?” said a jovial Kirk as he shoveled baked beans shimmering with bacon grease into his mouth. He saw McCoy grimace, then turn aside when Kirk glared at him. Kirk turned his attention to Spock. “Here we are. Just three happy campers together on the road of life.”

“Happy campers?” Spock echoed and turned in confusion to McCoy.

“A twentieth-century term,” McCoy mumbled. “It started out to mean people who took camping trips and hauled their homes around with them on the back of a pickup. No, it was not a huge pickup,” he said in anticipation because he could almost see Spock’s confusion. “It was a very small house mounted on that normal sized pickup.” He smiled fondly in remembrance. “My grandfather used to tell me about taking such trips when he was a young boy. Wish I was on one of them now.”

“That makes two of us,” Kirk muttered as he forked more lasagna.

“Anyway,” McCoy said, first glaring at Kirk, then deliberately ignoring him and his smart mouth as he turned to Spock. “Grandpa said his favorite trip was cross-country to California. He really loved Yosemite Park, especially climbing Half Dome. I’ll have to take you there someday, Spock. It’s close to Star Fleet Headquarters at San Francisco.”

“Will you two best buds have room for me on your grand pilgrimage to this Half Dome Shrine?”

“Of course, Captain,” Spock agreed pleasantly.

At the same time McCoy said hotly, “Of course, not! You won’t fit in the camper! And some of those puppies are extra wide with fold out sides!”

“Puppies? What kind of puppies?” Spock asked, looking from one to the other.

“I’ll explain later,” McCoy growled. “Just, eat your dinner. And for heaven‘s sake, don‘t ask Kirk about his!”

For the first time Spock glanced at Kirk’s plate and saw the lasagna, baked beans with bacon, and banana bread with butter swimming on it. Off to the side sat a hunk of coconut cake with some sort of rich-looking sauce shimmering beside it. There was not a green vegetable or a raw salad in sight.

Then Spock looked up at Kirk’s face and saw the gleam in his eyes. Spock could tell that Kirk was just hoping someone else would challenge his menu choices.

Spock returned his attention to his own green salad and rye crisp crackers. “I believe that to be sound advice, Doctor.”

At his side, McCoy grunted in agreement.

“But, Doctor,” Spock said in alarm as he shifted his attention. “You are not eating. And I believe you said you were famished earlier.”

Kirk’s eyes danced. Attention was off his plate.

“I lost my appetite,” McCoy grumbled.

“Are you suddenly unwell?” Spock asked with concern

“Quite suddenly.”

“May I offer any assistance, Doctor?”

“Lord, not that!” 

“Doctor?“

McCoy rolled his eyes and saw Kirk grin. “Save me from well-meaning saviors offering solicitude!“

Spock looked alarmed and Kirk smirked as he ground up his next mouthful.

McCoy had seen Spock’s alarm and didn’t want the situation to escalate into a major panic. “Mr. Spock, I appreciate your concern, but I assure that I am under no crisis. I’m as hale and hearty as I was the last time you asked.” McCoy’s voice had steadily risen. “All of three hours ago!”

“Doctor, I fear you could experience a blood pressure spike if you are not careful,” Spock soothed.

McCoy glared at Kirk who grinned back. “And I fear what could cause that spike!” He jumped to his feet, threw his napkin on the table, and stormed off.

Spock followed him with his eyes, then turned to Kirk. “Will he be alright?”

Kirk smirked. “He’ll be fine. Just as soon as he gets through this little PMS swing.”

“I do not understand. That is a condition that affects menstruating females.”

“And drama queens.” Before Spock could ask, he added, “And cranky doctors.” He saw Spock’s worried face. “Don’t worry. He’ll get over it.”

Spock glanced at McCoy‘s partially cleared plate. “He did not seem hungry.”

Kirk tried not to grin, but did in spite of himself. “No, he did not.”

“Captain, I fail to understand why the loss of Doctor McCoy’s appetite is humorous.”

“Not humorous, Mr. Spock. Just justified.”

“I do not understand, Captain.”

“He’s been riding my ass ever since I sat down about what I had on my plate.”

Spock blinked and pulled back. 

Kirk knew what was wrong, what had caused Spock‘s alarm. Not only was Spock having problems with the idiom, he would probably have nightmares about the images Kirk’s words had just created. Regardless of Spock’s problems with English, there was nothing wrong with his imagination.

Kirk leaned toward Spock to mollify him. “He was paying more attention to what was on my plate than to what was on his, and I didn’t like it, okay?” he explained carefully. Kirk sat back. “I let him know about it, and HE didn’t like THAT. We were at an impasse, and then you rode up on your trusty stead to rescue me.”

Kirk saw the confusion on Spock’s face and knew the alien’s imagination was working overtime. “Look. It had nothing to do with my ass, okay? He got nowhere near my ass. If he had, I would’ve kicked HIS sorry ass into next Sunday. And then he’d had something else to have worried about than how wide MY ass was spreading. Okay?”

“But, Captain--” Spock had noted more than once that Kirk had a lot of sayings about his posterior. That area must cause him a lot of concern. Or should. 

“Forget it. Eat. You have to stay healthy,” he muttered. “For both our sake's.”

Spock glanced at the cafeteria door. “Will he be alright? He was so hungry.”

Opportunity! Opportunity! screamed the radar in Kirk’s head. “I know, and I teased him too much and spoiled his appetite. Tell you what. Let’s take some food to him, shall we?”

“Of course, Captain,” Spock said with relief.

“Let’s make sure he gets a little snack this afternoon to carry him through until dinner, shall we?”

Spock’s eyes lit up. “Of course, Captain.”

“I’m probably not his favorite person at the moment, as you could tell. Suppose you deliver that snack to him in, say, an hour or so?”

“Of course, Captain!”

“Good. Good. And stay awhile, will you? Just make sure he eats it, okay? He might be a little reluctant, so you might have to get a little pushy with him, okay?”

“Okay!”

“Try to be subtle, though, too. He might baby the rest of us, but he can get downright cranky as a she-bear in December if he gets the same treatment from us. It‘s a macho independence thing with him.”

Spock tried to imagine McCoy as someone who could be described as macho and almost lost the thread of what Kirk was telling him.

“He gets sneaky. Says he’s doing something for his own good, then won’t. So you have to be vigilant, too. But don’t challenge him! Cajole him. Get him to talk to you. And, remember: Avoid blood pressure spikes. Be very soothing.”

Spock was nodding. “Very soothing. Right.”

“Take all the time you need. That will be your assignment this afternoon.”

“This afternoon? But I was there this morning. I have my work.”

“Remember. This is for Doctor McCoy.”

“Of course. Okay, I’ll take yogurt and tofu and bean sprouts--” He looked for reassurance from Kirk.

Kirk smiled and nodded in approval, but his smile faded as he thought that a double cheeseburger with extra fries would sound better. But knowing McCoy, he’d probably approve the healthy food. The question was, what would he think of Spock’s attention?


	6. Chapter 6

“I don’t know what’s gotten into Spock, Jim,” McCoy complained the next day. “He was with me in sickbay most of the afternoon yesterday after he’d been there in the morning. He brought me a snack, then checked that I ate it. I haven’t had anybody check my snack so closely since Miss Schmidt did in Pre-School, and she even turned her back on me occasionally. Not Spock! He was right at my elbow the whole time. I swore he was going to check the bottom of the yogurt cup to make sure I’d gotten it all. I thought for a moment that I’d have to lick it out before he was satisfied. I’m glad I didn’t have to make any serious trips to the bathroom! I haven’t had THAT checked since, well, Miss Schmidt, I guess.“

“Uh huh, uh huh,“ Kirk said as he avidly followed McCoy’s account of the previous afternoon. “Go on.”

“Spock even insisted I recheck his monitor. I’m beginning to think that he’s relapsing again. He must‘ve forgotten that it‘d been checked in the morning.”

Kirk nodded. “Uh huh, uh huh, the mind drifting thing, uh huh.”

“Yeah.”

Kirk stirred, scratched the inside of his wrist absently, and frowned. “I was afraid of this, Bones.”

McCoy looked alarmed. “Jim?”

“How do we know this isn’t a latent symptom caused by the flower allergen and his condition will worsen?”

“We don’t, of course. Anything’s possible, I suppose. Nobody else has had this symptom that I know of, though.”

“Perhaps it’s something peculiar to Vulcans,” Kirk said, looking worried and pacing. He was having to make this up at he went, and even he didn‘t know what was coming out of his mouth next. “And nobody has ever known about it before because Spock is the first Vulcan to have ever visited that particular planet.”

“Jim, you could be right!”

“Of course, I’m right.” He stopped pacing and looked at McCoy. “I’m going to suggest that you keep extra vigilante attention on Spock.”

“But he’s perfectly healthy.” McCoy frowned. “Except for the mind drifting symptom, of course.”

“That’s right. Maybe you should keep him under isolation, just to be sure.”

“Oh, I don’t know if we need to contain him that drastically,” McCoy said, “until he gives us more reason.”

“Uh huh, uh huh, you’re right.” Careful, Kirk, don’t get too obvious. Don’t make McCoy suspicious. “Just keep your eye on him and continue with the monitoring. Oh, and if he gets bored with that situation, ask him to help you with your food schedule.”

“That’s another thing that nobody’s done since Miss Schmidt in Pre-School!”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Kirk repeated, distracted. He glanced up at McCoy. “Were you her pet?”

“She was very dedicated. Taught for years. Babied everyone, especially me. I was very scrawny.”

“Nothing’s changed much, then.”

“Miss Schmidt’s dead. I attended her services. She eventually married my bachelor uncle so I saw her a lot after Pre-School. That‘s how I kept up with her.”

“I meant, nothing much has changed with you.”

“I’m taller.”

Kirk gave him an appreciative grin. “But just as mouthy. Anything else?”

“I’m feeling pretty good today.” If he’d been standing, he would’ve danced on the balls of his feet. “That yogurt works wonders. I’m as clean as a whistle.”

“Too much information, Bones!”

“Just saying.”

“I’ll remember that tidbit if, and when, that problem arises.”

“It’s as good as apples, Jim. Maybe better.”

Kirk held up his hand. “Enough. Information. Doctor. If you please.”

“I don’t know what your problem is. Spock was fascinated.”

“Well, I’ll just let you ladies get back to your knitting and clucking while I do this space exploring stuff with the real guys.”

“It’d be wise if you paid more attention to your diet, Jim.”

“I do! Every chance I get! I’m always ready for a meal!” he said with wild eyes. “But two well meaning, SKINNY friends of mine think I need their skinny assed advice!”

“Just saying.”

“Oh, go monitor your patient, and let him monitor you!”

As McCoy walked away down the corridor he began to think about what the Captain had just said in the heat of discussion about monitoring. A slip of the tongue? Spock and he were monitoring each other a lot. A whole lot. And it seemed very important to Kirk that they did so. And while we’re at it, haven’t we been spending a lot of just plain old ordinary TIME together? Why was that? 

Back in his quarters, Kirk was congratulating himself with a well-earned cream puff. Don’t make this too easy for me, gentlemen. After all, I do like a good chess game.

Hmm. This cream puff is really good. I’ll remember to grab another one for supper. Hmm. Maybe two.

He chuckled as he chewed. Ten more laps around the gym this afternoon, you naughty boy!

Mmm! It was worth it! 

Mmm!

 

“You know, someday you’re going to have a take a stand and decide for yourself what you want, Spock.”

Why did he even try, he wondered. Jim Kirk was trying, once again, to get Spock to understand the beauty of the emotional life, and Spock just wasn’t buying it. It seemed like a common occurrence for them to have this discussion.

“You can’t stand back forever.” Kirk held out his hand. “Grab what you want. Grasp it and fight for it as if your very life depended on it, because it well might. I’m not talking about your existence, I’m talking about your heart. You need what you desire to make yourself happy. Grab it, Spock. It sure as hell won’t be handed to you.”

“I still have another choice, Captain. There’s always Kolinar.”

“Ridding yourself of emotions so you don’t have to be torn up by them? A clear choice for those who don’t want to live fully. To me, it would be like getting a prefrontal lobotomy. Your personality would be gone, your soul. You’d be existing, but doing little else. Don’t you want to continue to interrelate with other beings? Don’t you want the suspense, the drama, the challenge of life? It would be so sad to lose that experience by going through Kolinar. McCoy and I hope you don’t go that route, we don’t want you to cheat yourself. The bottom line is, we love you, my friend, and losing you, either through Kolinar or exile, would sadden us forever.”

“Vulcans do not know of love, not the way you Earthlings do. But you have taught me about it. You and he. And I would miss it now. But it does bring great pain and suffering.”

“Yes! Yes!” Kirk encouraged, his eyes searching Spock’s.

“Pain is good?”

“Oh, yes! You know you’re alive!”

“I know I am alive because I am aware of existing. I know that must I ingest food and liquids to sustain my body and eliminate wastes to cleanse it. I breath in oxygen, and the breakdown of that gas in my lungs also helps me to sustain life.”

“And you have relationships to make that life worth living!” Kirk continued searching Spock’s eyes as he grasped Spock by the upper arms. “Just look! We’re here! McCoy and I and all your other crew mates are here to help you make that life worth living! Grab us! Use us! Just don‘t neglect us! We need reassurance, too! We need to know that you care about us the way we care about you! Oh, grab onto that life, Spock! Grab it and make it yours! Grab it and never let it go, no matter what! Squeeze all you can out of it!” He shook Spock slightly. “It can be yours, all yours, if you just claim it! Savor every blessed moment of that life! You deserve it! Make it worthwhile to say, live long and prosper!”

Spock got a droll look on his face. “I do believe that is my line, Captain.”

Kirk released his hold and turned. “Well, I do get carried away sometimes.”

Spock wanted to say, Sometimes? but thought better of it. Kirk was only trying to help. But like the imperfect human that he was, he was not using very well organized or logical arguments.

Kirk’s present performance was reminding Spock of McCoy on one of his typical rants. “That seems to be a common behavioral pattern of humans, Jim.”

“Yeah. Well, we’re just busy living, I suppose. Bear with me. I do apologize.”

“Please, do not. It is what makes you you.”

“You have been listening!”

“And observing. You are a passionate man living passionately. You are living life to the fullest.”

“As fully as I can make it.”

“Thank you for being a most excellent example of the robust life,” Spock said with a slight bow of his elegant head. On that point Spock was being truthful without a hint of mockery.

Kirk bowed back. “My pleasure, Mr. Spock.”

“I will consider your advice, Captain,” Spock said, smiling wisely. “Your argument may not have been too logical, but it is a most tempting one. I thank you.”

Kirk frowned to himself. He thought he was being logical. But then again, he had been in the moment. Who was he to judge his logic? Just so his appeal had been heard.

 

Being around the Vulcan more and trying to keep from arguing with him had put a whole new slant to their relationship. McCoy felt Spock had better feelings about him than even Spock realized, so McCoy tried to nurture the development of those feelings. Besides, the Vulcan had been solicitous and kind to him since Spock had begun being monitored. Maybe Spock was unconsciously acknowledging those feelings.

McCoy’s thinking was changing about Spock, too. McCoy felt more protective of him, and not only medically as he always had. Despite being very intelligent, Spock was naïve in so many ways to Earthlings and their customs.

McCoy and Spock were at their daily meeting when McCoy had decided to teach Spock about idioms. The Vulcan had patiently endured half an hour of tutoring when even he and the Kirk-inspired patience he was using with the doctor had begun to run thin. Even the stalwart Nurse Chapel had fled sickbay for a much needed coffee break.

“I am sorry, Doctor. These idioms simply are not logical.”

“Just try a little harder. Practice makes perfect, you know.”

“Why does this mean so much to you?”

“Because YOU mean so much to me!”

Spock’s eyes widened.

McCoy hadn’t intended being so obvious. “Wait a minute. Forget that.”

“I do not mean so much to you?”

“Of course, you do! I’m your friend, damn it! Whether either of us particularly appreciates that fact or not,” he muttered.

“I do. Do you not?”

“Of course! The question, though,” McCoy said muttering as he turned away, “is if you’re my friend.”

“That has been the question all along, has it not, Doctor?”

McCoy spun, exasperated. “Damn your Vulcan hearing!” He was tired of being careful and suddenly tired of it all. Get this damn alien out of here! McCoy had learned his lesson. Stick with his own kind, Earthlings. “Yes, it is! That certainly is the burning question that has us all waiting with bated breath, isn’t it, Commander! Are you my friend?!”

“Commander?”

“That is your title, is it not?!”

“No more 'Spock?'”

“You don’t know my name,” McCoy mumbled, once again turning away. “Why should I know yours?”

“But I do know your name.”

“You don’t use it! It’d just be nice to hear it once in awhile, you know?” He started pacing. “I’m just saying.”

Here he goes with the useless exercise again, Spock thought. Erratic actions and erratic moods. The Earthling needs to be soothed. “But I do think it, Leonard. See?”

McCoy stopped and looked at him. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” he said carefully, trying to soothe the riled man. These Earthlings, their emotions, and their rituals! How did they ever get anything else done?! “I could use your given name, but I believe that ‘Doctor’ fits you better.”

“You do?”

Spock nodded solemnly.

“Then that’s what you should use, isn’t it?” His voice sounded bitter and whining, even to himself. He felt petulant, almost standoffish, and rather like a spoiled child who’d just been denied some desired treat. More angry words formed on his lips, words that Spock may or may not have deserved. Then McCoy realized that none of them would advance the progress of this relationship. That is, if the relationship were intended to progress.

McCoy knew he should just shut up. He turned away from Spock and decided, for once, to take his own sound advice.

Something was wrong with the Earthling. “You are upset, Doctor, and I do not know why.”

McCoy smiled thinly and finally accepted something. “I know you don’t, Mr. Spock. It’s my fault and not yours.”

“I do not understand.”

“I know that, too.”

“Can you explain?”

McCoy took a few aimless steps, then looked back. “I have been trying to make you into something you can’t or shouldn’t be.”

“And what is that?”

“A hundred percent Earthling.”

“I see.” Spock considered. “And I see that you are disappointed.”

“In both of us. Spock, you shouldn’t be expected to give up your Vulcan side just because you live with Earthlings. It’s part of your identity. It’d be the same as if I would try to rid myself of my Georgian accent and my love of hard liquor just so I would fit in the crowd better.”

“Fit in the crowd better?”

“Blend. Get accepted easier because I was the same as everyone else. But don’t you see? That would make you the same as everyone else, and that would be wrong. You’re an individual, a wonderful individual, and you shouldn’t try to change yourself just to please us.”

“I have been doing this?”

“Not so much as I’ve been trying to hammer you into a mold I think would fit you better than what you already have.”

Spock looked mystified.

McCoy knew the alien was visualizing McCoy with a hammer and contemplating how to proceed on the alien‘s body.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’ll try not to do that anymore. Stay the way you are.”

But Spock looked alarmed. “You are giving up on me?!”

Several thoughts flashed through McCoy’s mind, but they boiled down to one concept. Spock didn’t want to lose HIS friendship. That was indeed mind-blowing. Note to self, McCoy thought, don’t use that idiom with Spock. He’s alarmed enough already.

“Look, Jim was right. I need to be happy for what you can give us. And I am. Happy.” His voice had progressively hollowed, but he hoped Spock believed him.

“No, you are not.”

Spock might as well have dropped a lit match into gunpowder. McCoy exploded. He leaped to his feet and started pacing.

“Stop telling me what I am! And stop being so smug about everything!”

Spock’s face appeared to be more bewildered than smug, he realized.

“Stop looking at me like that!”

That didn’t clear up the situation any. In fact, it made it worse. Spock’s mouth dropped open in panic as McCoy increased the speed of his pacing.

“Like what?”

McCoy stopped and stared at the clueless alien. “Oh!” He bolted for the door. “I need to get out of here!”

“But, Doctor.”

“What?!” he thundered.

“We are in your quarters.” 

McCoy came to an abrupt halt.

“You invited me here, Doctor.”

“Oh. Right.” He glanced at Spock with embarrassment.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“Yes! No. Of course not. It’d be better if you left.“ He pinched his lips together. “No, stay.”

“If I do all those things, won’t I meet myself going?”

McCoy stared at Spock, then burst out laughing. “Thanks. I needed that. It was getting way too serious in here.”

“Your idioms can come in handy.”

“I congratulate your use of a splendid one.”

“I would be pleased to learn more from you.”

McCoy studied the Vulcan. “And I would be pleased to teach them to you.”

“Thank you very much,” he said carefully. “Leonard.”

“You're welcome, Mr. Spock,” McCoy answered in the same, carefully scripted words. He tried not to make it sound mocking and figured he had succeeded when the Vulcan raised an eyebrow and nodded as one gentleman would to another. Then McCoy grinned at the sense of peace between them.

McCoy should never try to smile, Spock thought. It did not look any more natural on his face than it looked natural on Spock‘s. 

Spock felt smug. His Captain would be proud of the progress he had made today with McCoy. He had drawn the doctor out and listened to his concerns and tried to give him reassurances where he could. Surely, he was obeying his orders correctly.

Then why did Spock feel that something was off and not quite right? The doctor was looking at him with trust and pleasure, things that were not always displayed on McCoy’s face. Spock had expected a feeling of warmth to spread through him from what he had accomplished today. He was finding that he was growing to enjoy these feelings of praise, something similar to what Pavlov’s dogs must have felt. But there had been nothing. 

Not even a flush.


	7. Chapter 7

McCoy settled back in an easy chair and took a sip of the drink Kirk had given him. “I‘d like to talk to you,” he started.

Kirk relaxed in his own chair and sighed in contentment. It was good to kick back at the end of shift with a good drink and a good friend. But when McCoy had entered his quarters a few moments ago, Kirk knew his official day was not over just yet. McCoy, he surmised, was not here just to socialize. Kirk was going to have to do his Captain thing.

“That’s what I figured, Bones. What’s on your mind?” This must be important, Kirk thought. McCoy looked pretty grave.

McCoy didn‘t mince words. “What exactly did Spock say to you when you realized he was having problems and he asked you to bring him back to the Enterprise?”

Kirk shrugged. “He said that he needed to get home and see Dr. McCoy.”

“In those words? Those exact words?”

“What are you needing to know, Bones?”

“I just want to know what the damned Vulcan said! Is that asking too much?!“ He cooled. “Wait. Sorry.”

Kirk looked worried. “What is it, Bones?”

McCoy’s face was haunted by ghosts Kirk could not see. “Did Spock say ‘and?’”

Kirk’s face furrowed in thought. He knew how important this must be to his friend. Then his face cleared.

“I don’t remember for sure, but for some reason the whole thing got recorded.” He turned to the computer console on his easy chair. “Let me call that up.” His fingers moved over keys, then he stood back. “This should be it. I‘ll turn up the sound. Now, remember, he was pretty weak by this point.”

Spock’s voice, frail and shaken, filled the room. “I am not well, Captain. I need to get home to Dr. McCoy.”

Kirk saw McCoy look pleased and nod his head. His question had been answered. Spock had said ‘to’, not ‘and.’ And there was a bonus. Spock hadn’t even said ‘see.’”

Spock continued, “Please, Jim,” he begged in a barely audible voice. “Get me back to Leonard! His hands will heal me!”

Kirk’s voice came on the recording talking to Spock, and the real-time Kirk switched off the device. He looked up into the now stricken face of a bug-eyed Leonard McCoy who seemed to be having trouble breathing. “I’d forgotten about that last part. He was talking awfully softly by then. I probably thought he was just mumbling, and I didn’t even hear him. Now I doubt if the Enterprise was even included in that plea, just you. Sorry.“ He studied his thunderstruck friend. “Never wonder again if you are important to him,” Kirk said in a hushed voice. “I think he just said you are. He respected and trusted your medical practice, and he wanted your help. And he needed you to make him feel safe. Not me. Not anyone else in the whole, wide universe. Just you. You are very important to him.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted to know,” McCoy said with awe. “And he had to be nearly dead to admit it.”

“No, Bones, he had to be nearly dead to say it.”

“What?”

“I think he admitted it to himself a long time ago. He just didn’t want you to know. He likes keeping you off-balance, for some reason. It’s a familiar part of his relationship to you. It’s one way he can keep the upper hand with you.”

“I don’t know why he needs to do that,” McCoy growled. “He doesn’t need any outside help or advantage. I’ve never won an argument with him yet.”

“You might not know this, but I think that sometimes he really has to hustle to keep abreast of you, let alone beat you. He just acts like he‘s cool, judgmental, and aloof to hear you holler in protest. He enjoys that he can press your buttons and can get you stirred up. But all the time he‘s aggravating you, he’s also listening to you, absorbing your ideas, and computing your theories.”

McCoy snorted. “As if I’m any great challenge!”

“Bones, listen to me a moment,” Kirk said in a low voice emphasizing every word so McCoy wouldn‘t miss anything. “If you weren’t a challenge, he would’ve gotten bored with you a long time ago and found someone else besides me to talk to.” Kirk relaxed and talked in more normal tones. “And sometimes I think he only talks to me because of our bond.”

“This recording? Can you send a copy to the computer in my quarters?”

Kirk punched some buttons. “Done.”

“Thanks, Jim, I appreciate it.”

“I know how important it is to you. It is to him, too. Please don‘t use this information to harm him.”

“I would never do that, Jim. I‘ll always protect him. Whatever else, he is my patient. It’s nice to know I’m not just a third wheel with you two.”

Kirk started to protest.

McCoy waved his hand in the air. “I know how you feel about me. You not only say it, you show me. I’m sure there’s even some people who think we’ll buy the furniture some day.” He shot a look at Kirk. “You honestly can see us all together in retirement?”

“Yes,” Kirk answered softly. “We don’t fit anywhere else.”

“You could have any woman you wanted, live in any life style you wanted with her, and you’d still pick Spock and me?”

Kirk stared at McCoy. “In a heartbeat.”

“Why?”

“Because, outside of the Enterprise and my mother, women are fickle to me. And you and Spock might bitch and moan from here to Sunday, but I’ll always know where I stand with you.“ He smiled fondly. “And because, my dear doctor, you two need me. And I need to be needed by you guys.“ He frowned. “I’m never really that sure about women. They really might be Amazons at heart, after all. They keep us around for breeding purposes and slave labor.“

“You hate women, don’t you?“

“Me? The Casanova of the Cosmos? I love women, Bones.“ He frowned. “I just don’t trust them. And trust is a powerful drug, too, just like need. And, as I‘ve said before, need is a powerful drug.” He relaxed and settled back in his chair. “And I need you guys. Bottom line, I couldn’t do without either of you in my life. We three complete each other. We’re family for each other.”

 

“Do you remember coming back from the planet, Spock?”

“Vaguely, Doctor. I know I was happy to be back on the Enterprise and to see you again.”

McCoy took the gamble. “Do you remember how you expressed that?”

“Being happy to see you?”

“Yes.”

“No. Not really.” Spock frowned, thinking. “Wait. I took your hand. I remember you looked down at me with an anxious look on your face.” He looked at McCoy. “I called you Leonard.”

“Yes.”

“I pressed your hand. It made both of us feel better.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, dear,“ Spock mumbled, then looked up at McCoy in shock. “I gave you a Vulcan kiss.”

McCoy could only nod.

“Then, I-- Oh, my! I did more.”

“You were rather thorough. We should‘ve both taken cold showers, or smoked cigarettes, or something.”

“I am sorry, Doctor. I do apologize.”

“That’s alright. You didn’t know what you were doing.”

“But I did, Doctor. I just do not remember it very well.”

“Your inhibitions were down.”

“That is correct.”

That doesn’t mean he didn’t want to do it, trumpeted the elephant in the room. Neither of you is saying that it went contrary to Spock’s nature or feelings to do it.

The elephant was right.

Neither of them acknowledged the presence of the elephant in the room or the truth of its logic.

“Here is a drink for you, Spock,” McCoy offered. 

Spock, who was lost in thought about what they had been discussing, absently reached for the glass and grazed his hand across McCoy’s. The resulting shock that Spock received when their hands touched startled him, and he yanked his hand back. McCoy fumbled the glass and grabbed for it before its contents spilled all over Spock.

“Sorry, did that get on you?” McCoy dove to wipe liquid off Spock’s upper leg with his hand, and they both jumped back from the contact. “I’ll get you a towel,” McCoy offered.

“It is alright, Doctor,” Spock mumbled, somewhat disoriented. “I must be leaving anyway.” And he fled before McCoy detained him any longer.

 

Later, when he was alone in his quarters, Spock lay on his narrow bed and let his memories return to him. They had been drifting back in pieces since McCoy had primed them, but Spock couldn’t sort or assess them until now.

And, of course, they were about one of Spock’s most favorite things in the universe: Dr. McCoy’s hands, the hands that Spock had a crush on. 

Spock had a vague memory of grasping one of those hands after he had been brought aboard the Enterprise and was in sickbay. He remembered grasping it and rapidly weaving in and out, in and out of its fingers with his own fingers. And the doctor, startled, but concerned for his patient, had allowed the activity since it seemed to placate Spock. He remembered stroking the skin on the back of the doctor’s fingers and circling the knuckles with his index finger. And the doctor had allowed that, too. Then Spock had cuddled the hand beneath his face and was nearly asleep when it had gently left him. Spock had protested. Then that hand, the Earthling’s hand, had softly stroked his face with skilled and gentle motions. Feathery touches and light caresses lulled the Vulcan into a sense of floating into infinite peace. 

Spock had heard the low and soothing voice of the doctor saying Spock knew not what, the words were unimportant. It was the voice, its cadence, its familiarity that gave an anchor to the physically and mentally exhausted alien. Warmth and protection and love, yes, love, had flowed out of that hand and voice into Spock’s body, and the Vulcan had felt safe and reassured. He was home. Everything would be alright because this Earthling loved him, really loved him, loved him with a tenderness that Spock had no idea existed. No wonder Earthlings sang so highly their praises for physical love. It was an ultimate completion and a binding commitment between two beings. 

Then Spock had sighed, had smiled, and then had slept in utter contentment, knowing his lover would be there when he awoke to greet him gently. It was what sex was supposed to be.

But when he had awakened, it was to the real Dr. McCoy and not one from Spock’s wishful imagination. Now that McCoy was gone, if he had ever really existed.

 

McCoy frowned. He was going to have to think about this situation. Kirk was still throwing them both together. McCoy wondered what Kirk was scheming. Maybe Spock could shed some light on it. At least it would give them something to discuss in all of this newfound time they were suddenly getting to spend together.

He did not even want to think about what had happened to them when the glass of liquid had spilled on Spock's leg. McCoy's magic hand had brushed across his leg with just one thin layer of clothing between their two fleshes. Sensation had shot through Spock. He had been intently aware of McCoy's hand so close to where Spock longed it to be. He realized, though, that he should not be relishing those sensations. But he remembered the feelings stirred, even if he did try to forget.

 

“The Captain was very specific that I be very careful when I dealt with you as you needed subtle reassurance and large amounts of amiable companionship,“ Spock was relaying in a reluctant voice. He was very uncomfortable sharing this information with Dr. McCoy, but Captain Kirk said that he was to draw McCoy into conversation. It was difficult, though, to know the boundaries of possible conversations and his allegiance to both Kirk and McCoy. He did not want to betray Kirk’s trust, but he also could not openly lie to McCoy, since Vulcans cannot lie. It was quite a quandary for him.

McCoy could see the moral battle his questioning was causing Spock. He hated to put the Vulcan through this angst, but he had to know the depth of Kirk’s manipulations. 

Why were McCoy and Spock having to spend so much time together? 

Suddenly, it became as clear as Spock‘s pointed ears.

Because Kirk was encouraging it! McCoy stopped abruptly. Hell, Kirk was not only encouraging this relationship, he was abetting it!

Why was a certain Star Fleet captain so interested in throwing them together? Supposedly, to help his two best friends become more comfortable with each other. What other motive could he possibly have?

The eternal chess game of Kirk’s! Of course! Who knew what was on Kirk’s mind with all of this maneuvering. But McCoy would bet that Kirk was trying to play matchmaker for his two friends, after all.

Then the proverbial light bulb went off in McCoy’s brain while he finally finished connecting the dots.

“Of course! That’s it!“ He grinned, pleased with himself. “Why, that old Georgia river rat!”

“What?”

“Not what. Who.”

“Who, then? And why does that person reside on a river in Georgia?”

“He doesn’t. He resides right here with us on the Starship Enterprise.”

“That narrows him down to the male population of this vessel, at least.” 

“I can narrow that down further for you,” McCoy said with a tight-lipped grin. “He’s our illustrious leader.”

“Captain Kirk?”

“None other. That old scalawag. I’ve got to hand it to him, though. It must be a really sweet deal to watch,” he said with an admiring look and a shake of his head. “He must be bored as hell to come up with a scheme like this. We’ve really got to get to somewhere so he can start doing his space explorer thing again.”

“I do not understand. What is his ‘really sweet deal to watch?’”

“Us!”

“Us? Explain, please.”

“You and me. He’s trying to set us up.”

Spock looked puzzled.

“He’s trying to play Cupid!”

Spock’s frown deepened.

“For heaven’s sake, man! He’s trying to make a couple out of us!”

“A couple of what?” he asked as McCoy looked exasperated at him. Then Spock figured it out, too. It was like watching the sun come up. Understanding flowed across Spock's face. “Oh.”

“That’s right! A couple of those! A couple of lovers!”

Spock jerked his head back. “I must say. Whatever has the captain been reading to give him ideas like that?”

McCoy thought it wise not to admit that he probably had given Kirk the original idea of playing Cupid. Let Spock think that Kirk had a thing for voyeuristic literature. It would save a whole lot of trouble for McCoy.

Maybe it was time Kirk learned he couldn’t play with people’s lives as if they were pieces on a chess board. He shouldn’t be using their personalities and behaviors against them just so he could win a game.

McCoy probably should have really left it alone and just avoided Spock and any incriminating scenes with him. Kirk would get bored after awhile, or they would arrive somewhere where he could go do his space explorer thing.

Or McCoy was just bored, or felt ornery, or needed to go space exploring himself.

“Mr. Spock, I propose that we teach Captain James Tiberius Kirk a little lesson!”

“And that would be?”

“Let’s give the good captain an eyeful. If it’s hanky-panky from us he wants, it’s hanky-panky from us he’ll get!”

“And this hanky-panky is, what?”

“Everything, but, baby! Everything, but!”

Spock raised an eyebrow and discretely decided to trust the doctor’s lead on this hanky-panky. And this ‘everything, but’, he decided to leave entirely alone.

Another motive for McCoy’s plot, whether McCoy consciously or unconsciously realized it, was that he got to spend more time with Spock which was sounding better to him the more he thought about it.


	8. Chapter 8

“Are you sure this secluded spot is a good idea?” Spock asked as he and McCoy sat in a dimly lit corner of the cafeteria on the Enterprise.

“The best. Unscrewing that light bulb was brilliant. Now we’re in fairly dark shadows. Very romantic.”

“As long as I don’t stab my hand instead of my apple slices,” Spock grumbled. “Or ram my fingers down my water glass.”

“Stop grumbling,” McCoy said as he sat beside the Vulcan. They were both slightly uncomfortable with that situation, but they wanted to appear to be two lovers on a secret tryst. There just weren’t that many places on a starship for a tryst, though, and still be in public where they could be seen.

“I invited Jim here in a few minutes for a quick snack. I want him to ‘discover’ us in a secret meeting. Knowing him, he’ll eat what we’d consider lunch.”

“Would eating something big now spoil his appetite for dinner?”

McCoy gave the Vulcan a quick look. “HIS appetite? Did you forget who we‘re talking about?”

“My mistake. You are correct, of course.” His mind had been distracted. At any other time, he might’ve feared that he was relapsing again into that mind drifting problem of his, but there was another reason for his lack of concentration. 

McCoy was sitting way too close to him, but that was part of the plan, according to McCoy. The one good thing about the close proximity was that Spock had a good view of the doctor’s hands. Those wonderfully gentle, skilled, sure, steady, comforting hands. The steadiest hands on the Enterprise, Kirk said. The hands that Spock loved and loved Spock back, even if their owner did not realize it. 

“Now, when he comes in-- There he is now!” He grabbed Spock’s hand, shoved his shoulder against Spock’s, and leaned his head toward Spock‘s. “Cuddle!”

Electricity shot through Spock’s hand when McCoy grasped it. Ordinarily, Spock’s hands were not that sensitive, but awareness of McCoy made them that way today. He gasped, caught his breath, and jiggled the table as McCoy's hand increased its pressure on Spock's hand. Rough sex! By all the gods he did not believe in, why did the doctor have to be so rough? Spock would have submitted, gladly, to that gentle, skilled hand. Why did Spock have to be mauled?!

“Spock?” McCoy hissed. “What’s the matter?”

“Hmm? Ah, nothing, nothing.”

“Now, look what you’ve done! You’ve spilled your water!” 

The doctor had no idea how lucky he was that had been the only thing that Spock had spilled. Spock’s lunch of lentil soup and corn muffins was threatening to make a reappearance at any moment. Spock doubted that would add anything to the charm of a romantic setting.

McCoy released Spock’s hand, grabbed a napkin, and dove toward the spill.

Spock didn’t realize that his other hand lay beside the water spill until he felt the paper napkin and the doctor’s hand graze his. He gasped in pleasure and pain as a trail of fire swept across the top and side of his hand.

“Now, what?” McCoy hissed. “What are you gasping about? You don‘t need to convince ME of our torrid affair! HIM! Convince him! Remember?! Kirk! Now, concentrate! Stop that damned mind drifting!”

How, Spock wondered, was he supposed to do that? He could barely understand McCoy because a sudden distracting sound had started buzzing loudly in his ears. And, if that weren‘t bad enough, his hands were vibrating from McCoy‘s recent assaults on both of them. Spock wished for quiet seclusion to bring fulfillment to his hands’ over-stimulated pleasure zones, and then rest in beauty. But that was not to be.

“Uh--”

“S-h-h! Here he comes! When he gets here, act preoccupied.”

“Who will be acting?!” Spock gasped.

“Jim!” McCoy greeted in supposed self-consciousness, dropped Spock’s hand, and pulled away from Spock’s shoulder. “Good to see you!”

“Bones. Spock,” Kirk solemnly returned the greeting with two nods. Spock seemed distracted and didn‘t acknowledge him. Odd. Well, that‘s our Spock!

“You’re early!”

“I’m right on time, Bones,” Kirk answered, looking down at them. Spock still hadn‘t acknowledged him. “If you’d check your watches, you’d realize that.” He looked around and was amazed that he could even see the table, let alone the puddle of water in front of Spock. “But I understand why you’d have trouble seeing anything, especially your watches. What is this, gentlemen? A power shortage?”

“Maybe with the electricity on the ship,” McCoy answered in a flirty voice. “But we haven’t had any power shortages.” He leaned in close and nudged Spock. “Have we?” He winked at Spock. “Honey?”

Spock sputtered, then remembered. “No, ah, dear. We, ah, haven’t.”

McCoy grinned up at Kirk, but elbowed Spock in the ribs. Spock straightened and tried to concentrate. His emotions were shooting every which way, and his stimulation center was on overload. But he had to concentrate, concentrate.

Kirk glanced at their food. “Looks like you gentlemen started without me.”

“Just a little appetizer, eh, Spock?” McCoy leaned heavily on Spock’s shoulder and gave him a big wink. “To put us in the mood for the main course, later, eh?” He actually giggled.

Kirk blinked. Giggles? “I feel like I’m interrupting.”

“No, no, sit down! Sit down!” McCoy insisted with a sweep of his hand.

Kirk stared at the seats across from them. “There’s water all over those chairs. What happened?”

“Spock, naughty boy,” McCoy started, shooting the offending Vulcan a nasty look, then softening it with a flirty wink. “He got excited.” McCoy shrugged with a tolerant look. “What can I say? He’s an animal.”

Spock choked on the sip of water he was taking.

“I can barely keep him under control, at times. Other times,” McCoy said with a shrug and an affectionate look at Spock, “I don’t mind.”

Spock sputtered as he set his glass down.

“Is he alright?” Kirk asked as McCoy rubbed Spock on the back and murmured soft reassurances. 

“He’s been having some trouble with coughing today. I’m recommending he come, hmm, spend some time with me,” he said in a romantic, lyrical voice, “in my quarters. You know, so I can observe him,” he finished as Spock choked again. His eyes flicked dreamily over Spock‘s rugged Vulcan face.

“That cough sounds nasty.”

“Silly boy won’t stay under the covers.”

Spock dove for his water glass.

“I keep telling him the night air isn‘t good for him, but he so wants his skin to breathe, he says.” McCoy wrinkled his nose. “He doesn’t wear any pajamas, you know.”

Spock’s fingers slipped on the glass, and his other hand reached to help steady it.

“And you would know that because--” Kirk started.

McCoy gave Kirk a lazy smile and shrugged. “I don’t kiss and tell, Captain.” He looked dreamily at Spock. “Do I?” He flicked his eyes up and down the Vulcan‘s face. “Precious?”

Spock made a humming noise and gripped the table top.

Kirk frowned. “Now, what?”

“He’s trying not to cough, I guess. It was quite chilly in his quarters last night, you know.”

“I wouldn’t know, Bones. I wasn’t there.”

“Your loss,” McCoy murmured suggestively.

Spock made a sputtering noise, then grabbed McCoy’s glass as his own was now empty.

“If he keeps drinking water like that,” Kirk remarked, “he’ll soon have another problem. Well, I’m getting tired of standing here, and I’m not sitting in that water. Scoot over.”

Spock suddenly found himself squashed against the wall with McCoy crushed against him. If he thought McCoy’s hand had brought him pleasure and pain before, it compared little to having the entire left side of the doctor’s body suddenly slammed into his right side. He sucked air in sharply through his mouth as his nose unaccountably refused to work. His whole right side was tingling. Here he thought all of his pleasure sites were in his hands. Silly boy! There appeared to be a great deal of them all along his arm, leg, ribs, and whatever else the doctor was touching.

Then he discovered a new, very pressing problem. The doctor was touching more than his side. When Kirk had unceremoniously scooted McCoy, McCoy’s left hand had shot out to land palm down on the inner thigh of Spock’s right leg. Spock, Jr., ever alert, immediately awoke, responded briskly, and was eager for action. He perked up with interest. McCoy’s beloved hand was nearby, and available!

A moment later the doctor probably couldn’t help but notice what was surely nudging his arm in a friendly, eager-to-get-acquainted way.

“Spock!” McCoy yelled as he broke character and yanked his hand away. “Stop that!”

“What’s wrong now?” Kirk asked as he made himself comfortable. He made sure he had plenty of room as he spread his legs. The other guys were on their own.

“Spock’s just getting playful.”

Kirk frowned. “Spock? Playful?”

McCoy fought for control and actually got flirty again. He winked up at Spock who was red-faced from the water sputtering and the antics of Spock, Jr. “He’s such a tease. Who would’ve thought he’d be so naughty, spreading water everywhere.”

Spock hoped that was all he’d be spreading. In the tight quarters, his arms were pinned to his sides. Spock, Jr. was on his own and enjoying his freedom. He particularly liked to move around. Spock hoped that everyone kept their hands safely to themselves, because he had no control of the situation. And Spock, Jr., was on the warpath and hunting for relief. Any old port, or hand, in the storm. And McCoy’s hand was so near. Still. That beloved hand with those strong fingers. So close. So very close. The hand that could-- and-- So very, very--

Spock whimpered.

“What’s his problem now?”

“You don’t want to know, Jim. You don‘t want to know.”

Kirk dove into his large piece of chocolate fudge cake with the three dips of caramel nut ice cream oozing down its sides. “This stuff is great! What’s wrong? You guys aren’t eating.”

“That’s alright. We don‘t have much of an appetite for food right now.” He gazed fondly at Spock. “Do we? Sweetie?”

Spock’s only answer was a sharp intake of air.

Kirk grunted and concentrated on his snack.

McCoy took a deep breath and sent a desperate plea heavenward with a dramatic roll of the eyes.

All was quiet for a few moments as Kirk ate his afternoon dessert, then they both heard Spock mumbling.

“What’s he saying?” Kirk nodded toward Spock.

“Armageddon! Apocalypse!” Spock gasped in a louder voice. “Khan Noonien Singh! Klingons! Romulans!” 

“Sweet nothings, I assume?” Kirk inquired between bites. “Vulcan style?”

Distracted, McCoy nodded, then hissed at Spock. “Straighten up!”

“I only wish that were possible, Doctor!” Then he glared at McCoy with reddened face and spat out, “I mean, SWEETIE!”

Kirk did some of his own sputtering.

“Jim? Are you alright?”

“Too big a bite. Well, I’m finished.” He started to rise. “I’ll just leave you two kids alone. I can see that three’s a crowd here. Literally and figuratively.”

“Wait!”

Kirk turned back.

McCoy shot Spot a glance of annoyance. “I’ll come with you.”

“I think you need to stay here. Your ‘sweetie’ might need some help. On mop up, if nothing else. And you might even be needed for the ‘nothing else.’”

“I think that’s all been handled very nicely, thank you,” McCoy muttered as he glared in open disgust at Spock. “Just call him the Armless Wonder.”

Kirk had to bite the inside of his cheek, and the resulting pain almost dimmed the sparkle in his eyes. But not quite.

At the door to the cafeteria, Kirk paused and glanced slightly back. Spock might have two eye lids that gave his vision extra protection and McCoy might possess the steadiest hands on the Enterprise, but those assets were nothing compared to Kirk’s peripheral vision. McCoy had half-risen and was thundering something down at the Vulcan who stared up at him with a perplexed look on his face. Kirk didn’t even need Spock’s Vulcan hearing to know what McCoy was demanding to know.

“What the hell was that all about?!” He stomped away from the table.

Kirk chuckled to himself as he sped down the corridor before McCoy could see him lurking by the door of the cafeteria. 

Kirk snorted. Lovers! Yeah, sure! My sweet, lily-white ass they are!

Neither McCoy nor Kirk in their haste to depart saw the Vulcan now sitting alone at the semi-dark table. Great sorrow crossed his face. He had disappointed McCoy and lowered his esteem in the eyes of his beloved captain.

And, he sighed, he was going to have to go change his trousers.


	9. Chapter 9

“Well, we’ll just cut our losses and try again.” McCoy said in an encouraging voice. “We’ll try not to have the same fiasco we had last time.”

Spock was very reluctant to take part in further skirmishes with Kirk concerning Spock’s romantic relationship with McCoy. He did not quite understand Earthlings and their rituals, and this mating ritual really had him puzzled. And what good could it possibly do? He and McCoy could not possibly create a child between them as they were both males. Surely, McCoy, being a medical doctor and reasonably intelligent, should realize that much. Granted, Spock was beginning to enjoy and even looked forward to the time he spent with McCoy, so this playacting today had welcomed benefits. This enforced time of socializing together did have its merits.

Then there were the times that Dr. McCoy had to examine him, and those hands, those wonderful hands that McCoy did not appreciate owning, were all over Spock’s body, caressing, palpitating, seeking. Spock looked forward to those examinations and was never disappointed. Sometimes, though, he did have to make an unscheduled stop in his quarters happily to take care of the over-stimulation that generally followed McCoy‘s manipulations.

McCoy would mumble ‘nothing’ when asked if he had found any trouble. The doctor simply had not looked in the right place. Spock could have directed the doctor to the problem, but McCoy was probably leery of that area of Spock’s anatomy since the time of the cafeteria incident.

“Jim is scheduled to be take the turbo lift at any moment. There! I think it’s headed our way now. Remember, act guilty when we spring apart.”

Spock rolled his eyes. Just like last time, he wondered who would be acting. Thankfully, this time he had no script to follow. McCoy had said to let him do the talking. Spock was here merely as a prop, a rag doll to McCoy‘s direction. Okay, he could handle this assignment.

The door to the turbo lift started to open, and McCoy grabbed Spock in a fierce hug. Spock thought he was ready for this, but suddenly many parts of McCoy’s body were pressed against his body again and those wonderful hands were wound around his neck. He gasped in spite of himself and had no will of his own as his own arms snaked around McCoy’s back to hold them both up.

“Tighter!” McCoy hissed.

Spock happily complied and noticed an odd, distracting buzzing sound in his ears. Maybe it was the Vulcan national anthem at full volume. Maybe it was a rhapsody to all the hand sex he had ever known or had ever wished to have known. For his hands were screaming their delight at high pitch. They sang with happiness as his fingers splayed across McCoy‘s back making note of muscles and bone, and his fingers began caressing, kneading, seeking a willing response. And they got it. Spock's blood sang with the anthem in his ears.

The door whished open, and McCoy sprang away from Spock.

Where had he gone, Spock wondered. His arms stung from the violent departure of McCoy’s body, and his fingers vibrated with the memory of McCoy‘s flesh through his clothing.

Kirk stepped out, blinked once, then nodded at them. “Ladies.” He made a wide arc around them. “A little early in the day for hanky-panky, isn‘t it?”

“Jim!” McCoy’s face looked reasonably guilty.

Kirk stopped. “Going to take in the cotillion this evening?” He rolled his eyes. “I understand it‘s going to be a simply breath-taking gala!” He simpered. “Only the best people will be there, of course.’ He fluttered a weak wrist at them, then tucked his hand under his chin and looked up at them through his eyelashes. “It will be utterly divine!”

“We weren’t expecting to see you!”

Kirk sobered and straightened. “Why surprised, Bones? I was scheduled to come this way now.”

“Oh, I must have forgotten,” he said shyly. “Silly me! How time does fly!”

Kirk gave him a skeptical, over-sweet smile. “Yes. Other things on your mind, I suppose?”

McCoy made a sound of agreement as he shot a look at Spock, then nudged his wooden partner and looked back at Kirk with a plea for indulgence.

Spock blinked, then stared at McCoy in confusion. How had he gotten that far away so fast? And why couldn’t Spock concentrate? He must be relapsing again.

“You know you two should really have a better rehearsal. Your acting is lousy.”

“Acting, huh? Is this all you think it is? I‘ll show you what it really is about!” And before even he realized what he was doing, he lunged at Spock, trapped the alien’s face between his hands, and planted a huge kiss on his mouth.

Spock suddenly found himself with a body full of Leonard McCoy thrown at him. A hard face was smashed against his and those wonderful hands vibrated against his sensitive facial skin. What was a guy to do? Spock gave in to the sensations pummeling his own body and wrapped his arms around the doctor. The action halted McCoy’s forward motion and kept them both from falling. But at that point, though, neither of them was noticing.

After a heartbeat, McCoy released Spock‘s face, pulled back somewhat to glance up at Spock’s closed eyes, then closed his own, tightly wrapped his arms around Spock’s shoulders, and deepened the kiss with a sigh of contentment as they settled into each other more comfortably.

Half a minute passed and then they broke apart gently and self-consciously. A stunned, awkward moment followed in which there were several throat clearings and aborted attempts to seek out each other’s eyes. Then they remembered their audience, glanced Kirk’s way, but couldn‘t quite look at him.

Jim Kirk was eyeing them steadily without blinking. He held their gaze a moment longer, then nodded. “Gentlemen,” he said softly, turned away from the embarrassed, silent pair, and continued toward his original destination.

Kirk was certain that something ground-shaking had just happened between the other two, just not what McCoy had intended. Yes, indeed, McCoy had come through on his promise. He had shown Kirk what their acting really was about, alright.

 

McCoy couldn’t believe it. Their charade had failed for the second time, but with a completely different outcome. What had happened was that at the instant of the kiss, McCoy realized he was romantically attracted to Spock. It wasn’t just wistful hoping brought on by his desire for Spock’s friendship and the intimacy of the Vulcan kiss on his hand. This was the real thing! Of all the gooey-eyed, teenage girl things to do! A crush at his age! He must be insane!

However poorly Spock’s other acting abilities were, he had been very good returning McCoy’s kiss. McCoy could almost swear it had been authentic. 

Maybe, McCoy caught his breath, maybe their mouth kiss had been real. Maybe the Vulcan had feelings for him, too! Could it be possible? A feeling of warmth spread through McCoy as he admitted he would be receptive, even welcoming, to such a possibility. 

Then McCoy asked himself the big question.

How difficult would it be to be in love with an alien? Not just simply love him, but love him THAT WAY?

McCoy shivered as he thought about touching the Vulcan THAT WAY and having the Vulcan touch him back THAT WAY. To have those sensitive hands touch his body and know that the Vulcan was receiving untold pleasure from that touching. That he was giving pleasure to his Vulcan, his very own Vulcan, something forever somewhat wild, something that wouldn’t, shouldn’t, ever be tamed.

What would it be like to surrender at last to a Vulcan’s embrace?

The warmth exploded a hundred-fold. 

His expletive sounded very appropriate. If he kept this up, he’d have a Spock experience and would have to get himself cleaned up, or change uniforms, or both.

He stopped. Is that what had happened to Spock when they had been packed closely together in the cafeteria? Was it more than closeness that had produced that violent explosion in Spock? Did McCoy truly have that kind of power over the alien? Could it be possible? Did Spock love him back?

Damn this school girl crush! That’s all it was!

Yet there was the evidence of that affectionate Vulcan kiss Spock had given him, a kiss that had not only been affectionate but passionate.

Be logical, he chided. Spock would. That kiss had been given when Spock had been seriously compromised. McCoy, in accepting the kiss, no matter how innocent on his part, had done the same as taking advantage of the Vulcan!

Spock would have clung to anything or anyone that represented home to him in his weakened state when he had been brought back from the planet. There was nothing more than an uncertain friendship between them, McCoy told himself, something that lacked the ease they both shared with Kirk.

He just would stay clear of Spock for awhile and let this silly thing between them die of neglect. That’s all it was, after all. Just a silly thing.

 

“What’s wrong, Bones? Why so cranky?” Kirk asked as they sat eating in the cafeteria. “Lover’s spat?”

“That’s not true and you know it. We‘re not lovers.”

“What, then? Get caught in your own trap when I was meant to be the one squirming with steel snapped around my leg?”

“We figured out what you were scheming and decided to teach you a lesson, that‘s all.”

“Yeah. Yeah. You learned the lesson, though, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you‘re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. And what’s this ‘we’ business? Spock is very intelligent, but relationships still have him stumped. You talked him into those charades, didn’t you?”

“You needed to learn a lesson.” McCoy crossed his arms and looked cranky. “Now I don’t even want to be in the same room with him.”

Kirk looked at him levelly. “That’s not true and you know it,” he said softly, throwing McCoy’s words back at him.

McCoy grimaced and squirmed in his chair as he uncrossed his arms.

“Where is Spock, anyway?” Kirk asked, looking around. “I thought he’d be here this evening.”

“I don’t know,” McCoy mumbled. “I haven’t seen him lately.”

“Really?” 

“Really.”

“That’s some spat.”

“Jim!”

Kirk held up his hands. “Sorry. Sorry. Couldn’t resist. If you haven’t seen him lately, how are you handling his monitoring?”

“I’m still doing it. They’re pretty silent affairs, though. Not what you’d really call interrelating. And we aren’t having those afternoons of lengthy discussion anymore. We were running out of things to talk about, anyway.“

“So you decided to do a little amateur theater for my benefit? You know, the whole thing reminded me of an old-fashioned melodrama. It had it all, too. Bad writing. Unbelievably. The whole nine yards.” 

McCoy grunted. “Everybody’s a critic.“

Kirk broke a baking powder biscuit into his beef stew, stirred thoughtfully, then said with a laugh. “And that was some really bad overacting!” 

McCoy stiffened and shot back, “I thought that’s what you always got accused of!”

“Perhaps. But I always knew my audience and focused the material accordingly. Your whole fiasco should’ve insulted my intelligence.” He took a bite of stew. “But it was so bad, it was good. While you two, you fascinated me, to borrow one of Mr. Spock’s favorite expression. I literally didn’t know what was coming next, and I don‘t think you did, either. Spock is great at improv, by the way. If this Star Fleet thing goes bust for him, he can always work the comedy circuit back on Earth. That ending he presented in the cafeteria was a real show stopper, and he would always leave the stage happy.“

“Go ahead,“ McCoy grumbled. “Have your laughs.“

“Thank you. I have. And I really had fun taking part in your little presentation.”

McCoy gave him a suspicious look. “What do you mean?”

“I decided to do a little improv of my own. I pushed that scene in the cafeteria for all it was worth. By the way, I was in no danger of getting myself wet.”

“You?! How?“ McCoy’s eyes flashed with understanding. “There wasn’t any water on the other seats!”

“Not a drop. Correction. If there were any, it wouldn’t even have dampened my lily-white butt, let alone gotten it wet.”

“So, all the time you had me crushed up against Spock--”

“I was just making sure you two were really getting acquainted. I figured you’d never even cuddled before, let alone progressed to the level you were so brazenly hinting. If it had true, baby,” he said slowly for emphasis, “you two would have melted into each other when I gave you that shove. You both would’ve laughed with glee and seen it as an opportunity to flaunt your ‘love’ in public. Taking chances is part of the thrill. And there would’ve been bruises and scratches everywhere on your bodies, and you would‘ve teased each other cryptically about the ones I couldn‘t readily see. You would’ve been sleepy tired, not giddy like you and reluctant like Spock. In short, it didn’t fly, baby,” Kirk said with a smug smile. “That starship didn’t even make it out of the space port, let alone get into space.”

“Well, just don’t mess with us anymore,” McCoy grumbled.

“I won’t. Not anymore. It’s serious now, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You got caught up in it, didn’t you? I could tell, you know.”

“A specific time sticks out? Not the--”

Kirk closed his eyes and shook his head. “Nope, not that comedy of errors in the cafeteria. Come on, Bones! You know as well as I do.” He punched McCoy’s arm. “The kiss, baby! The kiss!”

“Oh.”

“It had first kiss written all over it. The discovery. The shyness. The look of wonder in those blue, blue eyes. The dust from a thousand brilliant stars lay shimmering in those eyes. The truth. At last. The unmistakable truth. I wanted to hug you both and say, Told you so! But the time wasn’t right. I knew the experience couldn’t be blatant. I knew it had to be shoved away to fester in both of you. I’ve seen my share of romantic comedies. I know the shtick. I even know my role. I’m the good-looking second banana who never gets the girl.”

“This is a romantic comedy to you?”

“You’re right. What you gave me in the cafeteria was a broad farce. But I was intrigued. I thought that you’d fired your writers and were creating your own material. My only advice would’ve been to rehire your writers.”

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“It’s the best time I’ve had in months.”

“Outside a bedroom, I’m supposing?”

Kirk’s eyes twinkled. “You suppose correctly.”

“This is all just a big chess game to you, isn’t it?”

“I know I’m playing with people’s lives here. And they also happen to be the two people in the whole universe who mean the most to me. I won’t let anything bad happen to either of you. I’ll protect you from anything, even yourselves.”

“Our eternal referee.”

“I suppose.”

“Just remember that refereeing chore when Spock and I aren’t speaking to each other, the way we are now,” McCoy grumbled.

“It won‘t last long.”

“Hmm?”

“This little spat. It won’t last long.”

“There wasn’t a spat.”

“Well, you’re staying clear of each other. What is your definition of ‘spat?’”

“I got tired of the game.”

“It isn’t a game anymore.”

“You seem awfully sure of yourself.”

“I am. I’ve got insider information.”

McCoy snorted. “Yeah, sure, you do!”

“Yes, I do. Now, back to that kiss--” 

McCoy sighed. “Must we?”

“We must.” Kirk leaned closer. “Bones, I have to tell you something.“

“Okay.“

“That look of wonder and stardust I saw misting in your eyes after the kiss?”

“Yeah?”

“Spock had it in his eyes, too.” He straightened as McCoy looked stunned. “And THAT’S why I’m sure, Sweetheart! He‘s head over heels, the same as you are.” He gathered his utensils and napkin. “Well. Gotta run. Always a pleasure.” Kirk stood up, then leaned down toward McCoy and slapped him on the shoulder. “Let that fester in your system for awhile, Sweetie. Accept it! You‘re meant to be together, and I couldn‘t be happier. And don’t worry. That guy’s as messed up over this romance as you are. That‘s why he was so ham-handed and tongue-tied in the cafeteria and at the turbo lift when you were close to him. You got to his libido, Baby. He couldn’t even think straight, let alone act according to your script. First those hands he loves so much do magic all over him in sickbay, pressing, stroking, and manipulating his body. And then that Super Stud body of yours gets shoved up hard against his, twice, in a real friendly way. The guy didn‘t have a chance. ‘It’s just the nearness of you,’” he sang off-key and drew the momentary attention of other diners.

McCoy’s mouth flew open in shock.

As Kirk walked away from the still stunned McCoy, he grinned and thought, Yup, romantic comedy, all the way.

Ah, gentlemen, the eternal chess game!


	10. Chapter 10

McCoy gave himself a good talking to. He should be realistic about Spock’s affection and be happy with the relationship he did have with him. He did not want to risk losing Spock’s friendship, however slender it was. 

But, in the end, did McCoy take his own sound advice? Of course not. He chose, instead, to believe what Kirk had told him.

 

The medical examination of Spock had been routine and unusually quiet as McCoy spoke only in monosyllables and mainly to Nurse Chapel. Even she thought this was odd behavior for the doctor and the alien.

“All right. Everything’s fine,” McCoy announced. “Get dressed, Spock, and I’d like to see you in my office for a moment, please.”

Spock looked alarmed.

“Nothing’s wrong! Just in my office. Please.”

Spock raised an eyebrow at Chapel, but she only shrugged.

“Sit down, sit down, Spock. We don’t rest on ceremony here,” McCoy said as he settled in the chair at his desk.

“You do not have another scheme to convince the Captain that we are lovers, do you?” Spock asked with suspicion in his voice.

McCoy waved him away. “That ship has sailed.” When he saw Spock’s look of inquiry, he said, “No.”

Spock gave out an audible sigh of relief.

“All we managed to accomplish was puzzling the Captain and then keeping him entertained. Jim appreciated that, I‘m sure. He bores easily.” He gave Spock a thoughtful look. “I think we might have accomplished something more in this time together, though, something unplanned. A hidden benefit, if you will.” Encouraged by the Vulcan’s noncommittal look that he took for interest, McCoy plunged ahead. “These days of being thrown together has enabled us to become better acquainted, don’t you think?”

Spock shrugged without answering.

“We learned that we had more in common than we thought. We got more comfortable around each other. We might have even bonded.” 

Spock thought he needed to clarify a point. “Captain Kirk and I are bonded.”

McCoy raised his hand. “I know. I know. I suppose I should say that you and I have established a bond.” 

“May have established--”

Stab to the heart. Spock wanted that distinction clarified. “Okay, okay, may have established.” McCoy knew he should just shut up and say something to the effect that he hoped their relationship continue for the mutual benefit of both of them and then make plans for them to have dinner with Jim. But he still hoped to move this relationship forward into something more intimate.

“We’ve had our differences, Spock, but I want you to know that I have always respected you and valued your opinion. I want to thank you for that.”

“You are most welcome, Doctor,” Spock said carefully. These Earthlings and their rituals!

McCoy mentally wiped his brow and wished he could do it physically. Why was this damned Vulcan being so difficult?! A little help would be appreciated here. He glanced at the calm visage facing him and realized that Spock didn‘t have a clue about what was going on. Time to stoke the fire.

“I believe we have become more than friends.”

Spock frowned. “Why do you think that?”

McCoy held out his hand. “That kiss, Spock, that kiss! It was electric! I’ve lived it over and over, and I think it was special. No, I know it was special. It hinted at more. More that we could be, together, if we just let it. If we want it, Spock. If we want it, we can have it. Together.” There. His cards were on the table. Surely, even a Vulcan could understand his meaning.

A smile of appreciation slowly spread across Spock’s face, and his eyebrow raised in haughty derision. “You have been doing some fascinating reconstruction of facts and events, Doctor. Quite creative, in fact, and most entertaining. You are, and I believe the expression is, an old romantic, are you not? No wonder you have a problem with logical thinking.”

It was like ice water to the face. Spock might as well have slapped him.

McCoy was speechless, then finally mumbled, “Thanks. I needed that.”

Spock continued with that calm, aloof gaze while McCoy studied him. 

Then McCoy’s eyes narrowed. “You cold, condescending bastard. It must be nice to be above it all. You couldn‘t have gotten any of that from your gracious mother. Or your courtly father. He might be pure Vulcan, but at least he‘s humane.” 

When that got no response, either, McCoy mumbled, “Thanks, I needed that, too.” He sighed and looked away. “I think you’ve been monitored long enough, Commander. You don't need my help anymore. I doubt if anything in the annals of medicine could come close to describing your problem. No known medicine would help. None of what I've got could cure you," he mumbled. Then he rallied. "Just get out of here.”

“Doctor?”

He glanced back at Spock who looked confused. “You heard me. There's nothing physically wrong with you. You're healthy. Get out of my sickbay, and don’t come back. Not unless you‘ve got major bones protruding through your skin, or there’s a river of green blood flowing out of you. Then Chapel can patch you up.” He looked away. “She’s the only one around here who likes you anymore,” he muttered.

When Spock continued immobile and looking confused, McCoy snorted in derision and waved Spock out of his office. When that didn‘t work, he looked Spock hard in the eyes and said, without blinking, “You are dismissed, Commander. Don’t. Come. Back.” Then he turned his back on Spock. “Ever. I don‘t want to have to deal with you anymore." He frowned. "Just go back to Vulcan, or Hell, or wherever it is where people like you are contented to live without hearts. You‘ll feel right at home. They‘ll probably elect you mayor, or governor, or president of the whole damned place! Because that‘s what a place like that is. Damned. And so are you,” he muttered softly, but knew that Spock could still hear with his Vulcan hearing. After a moment he heard his door whish open and closed.

McCoy heard Chapel saying something to Spock, but McCoy waited until he was certain that Spock was truly gone. Then McCoy let his breath out slowly, grabbed the pencil that had started it all, snapped it in two, and uttered his favorite expletive. That pencil would never be the cause of any more trouble for him.

McCoy felt a tiny pain on the inside of a finger and saw that the broken end of the pencil had punctured his skin. That pencil was still up to no good. Even dead, it was still hurting him.

Then he noticed a thin line of blood oozing down his finger. His blood was red, not green, not green like Spock’s. Their bloods would always be different, like them. 

For no reason he could fathom, Doctor McCoy leaned back in his desk chair, put his bloody hand to his eyes, and wept.

 

Spock’s face remained placid until he reached the sanctuary of his quarters. Technically, he was still on duty, but let Command think that he was in sickbay. And, by the way he was feeling, he should be in sickbay, or a prison, or a hole in the ground. Anywhere where he did not have to feel. He had no heart to be on one of his most favorite places in the Universe: the bridge of the Starship Enterprise.

After the door whished closed securely behind him, he stared unseeing into nothingness. Then his eyes clouded in a painful frown.

What had he just done?!

He had seen the light go out of McCoy’s eyes and realized that he had crushed something deep not only in the man’s heart, but in his soul.

Why was Spock this way? Why could he not take that next step with McCoy? Something always prevented him from tearing down that last barrier. A lack of faith, a lack of trust, a combination of both, he did not know. He feared he would never have an ease with the doctor as he did with Jim Kirk, his best friend.

Whenever Leonard had tried to approach him, whether to apologize, to offer sympathy or support, or to strike a common ground, Spock had always been aloof, reluctant to lower that last defense. Spock never had that problem with Kirk. Although they were best friends, they really weren’t that much alike. Whereas Kirk rushed boldly in, Spock held back thoughtfully. Spock never felt intimidated by Kirk. You either followed him, or got left behind. Leonard demanded a more personal relationship, a commitment. Spock and McCoy were meant to walk side by side, neither leading, neither following. McCoy wanted more from Spock; Spock did not know if he could provide it.

And now a new element had been added to their high-stakes poker game: a physical relationship.

For he knew what McCoy had been proposing. He, too, had felt the magic of their unexpected kiss. He, too, had pondered a different relationship with the doctor. Now they had considered something a whole lot more personal than friendship. 

If being friends with the man was difficult for him to consider, how in the universe could he ever imagine being his lover? But as quickly as it had been offered, it had disappeared along with McCoy’s friendship. And Spock felt cold.

 

Kirk couldn’t remember exactly when he became aware of a different feel to the environs of the Enterprise. Something was amiss, something was making him feel unbalanced, and he didn’t quite know what it was. Then he noticed McCoy with a haunted, wistful look out of his eyes, especially when he thought no one saw him watching Spock. And Spock’s face looked guilty and regretful when he thought he was alone. Could a Vulcan feel those things, Kirk wondered. Maybe not, but perhaps the human side of a half-breed Vulcan could. 

And a full-blooded Earthling named Kirk most certainly could feel his share of the responsibility for causing this whole, sorry mess. McCoy had believed what Kirk had told him about Spock. It should have worked. It made sense. Two lonely guys who were almost friends should have hit it off. Kirk had forgotten one thing: Spock’s reluctance. Kirk had to patch it up.

 

“Come on, guys,” Kirk said to his two uneasy friends in his quarters, “you gotta get this straightened out. You think too much of each other to fight.”

“It’s our fight, thank you,” McCoy said haughtily. “We’ll handle it any way we see fit.”

“That’s it! You’re not handling it! You’re not even talking! Look, I’m the one who got you in this mess, I’m the only one who can get you out.”

“I suppose next you’ll say, kiss and make up?”

“Well, yeah, Bones,” Kirk said with a grin of relief. “That would speed things along.”

“There’s only been the one kiss, Jim. I think you better know that right now. Let’s not cheapen that. Maybe this will teach you not to mess with people. Playing Cupid! With us! You‘re supposed to be our friend. We thought we could trust you.”

“I’m sorry about that. I can see what a mess I’ve created. But, hey, I couldn’t have gotten anywhere if nothing would’ve been there. I couldn’t have planted a seed in infertile ground and expected it to grow. You both wanted this. I just got things going a little faster.”

“Yeah, sure,” McCoy mumbled.

“I can only go by what you’ve told me and by what I can see for myself. Vulcans love through their hands. What did Spock grab when he was desperate? Your hands. Not only are they love objects to him, you’re a doctor. And doctors are known to have healing hands. You might say you both belong to a lonely hands club.”

McCoy rolled his eyes. “Now you’re getting corny.” 

“What I’ve said is all true. Come on, guys,” Kirk said in desperation as he held out his hands. “It’s written all over the walls.” Kirk saw Spock glance at the uncluttered walls and frown in puzzlement. “Give it a chance.”

“You steered me wrong a few days ago, Jim. You said there was something there when there wasn’t. I‘m not listening a second time.”

“I’m sorry about that, Bones. I thought it would turn out differently.”

“What do you expect when it doesn’t even register now?”

The two Earthlings knew they were talking about Spock’s reluctance, but Spock didn’t. No matter how intelligent he was or how much he acclimated to life with Earthlings, a part of him would always remain alien to their ways.

“It should’ve been good, Bones.”

“It was what it was, Jim, and now it’s over.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’ve just had enough.” McCoy turned. “Spock, I take back the damning thing. That wasn’t right for me to say. I’m taking it back for my sake, though, not yours. You don’t believe in a Christian God, but I do. I’m not messing up my karma over this, either. I don’t want to have to work for the rest of eternity trying to make it up to you. I know what I’m saying doesn’t make much sense to you, but it’s important to me. You’re still important to me, too, despite everything. I just wish you felt something good for me. I would’ve settled for friendship, then I thought we could’ve had more. I guess I was wrong about everything. And I wish I hadn’t been. For my own sake, though, I just don’t want anything to do with you anymore. I’m thinking of myself for a change, and it’s high time I did.“ He stared at the alien face looking back at him placidly. “Whatever agenda from Hell you’re subscribing to, it’s working. You’re stamping out the human side of yourself very nicely. But it’s taking your humanity with it. I doubt if even your father would’ve wanted that for you.“ He frowned at the immobile face. “I thought you could’ve stretched yourself by now, but no. Rock can't be stretched, can it?“ He grimaced and gave up completely. “Just be good to Jim. He still believes in you.“ He turned to Jim and patted his face with affection. "I don't blame you. The problem was what you had to work with. Save a spot for me in your home. I'll be needing it." He accepted Kirk's silent nod and left.

The whish of the door closing echoed in the otherwise quiet room long moments after McCoy left.

Kirk turned. “Spock? You haven’t said anything. Or did you let McCoy do your talking for you?”

“Precisely.”

“I think you don’t fully appreciate what’s going on here. McCoy doesn’t want to try anymore. He’s through with the whole thing.“ Kirk saw that subtly wasn’t going to work with the alien. He decided to use a direct tactic. “Spock, we could lose him.”

Spock frowned.

“Didn’t you see it in his eyes? Didn’t you understand his words? He’s giving up. He wants it all to be over. You keep threatening Kolinar. Well, he’s got his own version of Kolinar. It’s called a transfer. He doesn’t have to take what he must consider to be abuse from you. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want to lose either one of you, and I may well do that through my own meddling.”

“And he might leave?”

“He might leave.”

Something crumbled inside Spock. “What is wrong with me, Jim? I hurt him, I know I did. He told me how he felt about me, and I threw the barrier up again. I have always done that, and I do not know why.”

“You need to trust him.”

“I do. He has saved my life many times.”

“Not with your life, Spock. Trust him with your heart. He will, because he will be wanting you to take care of his.”

“Do you know what I did to him? What I said? I called him an old romantic. I mocked him, made him feel childish, silly, not special, cheap. I saw something die in his eyes then. I think it was his love for me. Why do I do that, Jim? Why do I push him away when I really want to be with him?”

“You were scared, Spock. Scared that he might hurt you. You’ve got to trust him,” Kirk whispered as he grabbed Spock by the arms and shook him. “Trust him, Spock.” He searched his eyes. “You’ll be happy you did. Oh, my friend! My dear, dear friend! I want the world for you. And you can have it. If only you’ll be brave enough to take it!”

Spock smiled. “You are an old romantic, too, are you not?”

Kirk released his hold and straightened. “You would use your barrier against me? Why?“ He looked at his friend intently. “You are the one now who will have to take the next step. McCoy won’t, and I can’t. If you want a more intimate relationship with McCoy, it will have to be your doing. Even if you want only friendship, you will have to offer him something to befriend. I guess he and I should have held you accountable a long time ago. We let it slide, and now you’ve got a terrible hurdle to jump. You’ve held yourself aloof for so long, you’ve boxed yourself in. You’re the only one who can find a way out for yourself.“ 

“Maybe the box is safer.“

“Of course, it is! It’s scary to dare yourself. I know.“

“No, you do not. You are Macho Man.“

“I am a scared, little boy pushing myself to be Macho Man. When I bluff that I’m in control, I’m hoping I convince myself as well as everyone else. Dare yourself, Spock. That’s the only way to keep your self-respect.“

“And McCoy would listen to me?“

“I don’t know. There are no guarantees. But I hope he would give you another chance.“ He saw Spock’s self-doubt. “Spock, if you walk away from him now, if you do not accept what Bones has to offer you, then you’re not as smart as I’ve always thought you were.”

“What if it is not him whom I doubt?“ Spock nearly whispered. “What if it is me? What if I am not enough for him?” 

Kirk’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Spock, it is true! You are in love with him!”

“I feel that I am not perfect. I am a half-breed.”

“That is what is stopping you?“

Spock nodded. “It is part of it.“

“McCoy doesn’t want someone who’s perfect. He wants you, warts and all, as they used to say on Earth. Oh, Spock, if I could find someone to be in love with me like that, I would feel so lucky. But you, you have found it in each other. Don’t lose him. It’d be the biggest mistake of your life if you lose him.”

“But, how, how do I win him?”

“Show him, Spock.” 

“What if I put the barrier up again?”

“Ask yourself which is more important: the barrier or him?”

Spock frowned in concentration.

“There’ll come a time when all the barriers in the world won’t be able to keep you apart. Trust, Spock. Trust in him. Trust in love. And trust in yourself.” 

 

McCoy plowed down the corridor, unaware of anyone else out there with him. If any of his crew mates were in danger of a collision with him, that other person was going to have to move because McCoy wasn’t. His mind was whirling with too many thoughts for him to be conscious of anything else, thoughts that he had been about to say to Kirk, thoughts that he didn‘t want to say, thoughts that he might well have to say in the near future if Kirk didn’t leave well enough alone.

McCoy could just hear those thoughts. He’d say, if you keep yammering away about it, I‘ll just transfer off this ship. I love the Enterprise and my life here, but I’ll leave it all behind if I must. I don‘t need this angst in my life.

And McCoy could see Kirk’s face at hearing such words, the pain of not only losing a trusted member of his crew, but the anguish of losing a beloved friend. It would crush Kirk and bring him sorrow forever. It would tear McCoy up to do this to Kirk, but he would if that were his only solution.

And McCoy could see the Vulcan’s face, also, when Spock heard the news of McCoy‘s departure. The haughty eyes would look disdainfully out of an otherwise emotionless face while he considered how this situation would affect him. One Earthling gone, another one would probably take his place. One could only hope that the new one would be more disciplined in the principles of science and logic.

McCoy felt a stab in his heart. He was sure now that that was all he meant to the Vulcan. Spock, cold and impersonal, had watched McCoy‘s clear surrender and it had stirred no empathy in him. There had been no reaction. Nothing. 

McCoy had talked himself too eagerly into a romance that clearly didn’t exist because he had so wanted it to be true. He had too readily absorbed Kirk‘s reassurances that he meant something to the Vulcan. But Spock truly was too much like an animal to feel any tenderness for the doctor. Too feral. No matter how tame a wild animal seems, it is still basically a wild animal. And so it was with Spock. McCoy had thought of Spock as a human with an exotic, alien side to him when, in truth, Spock was really a Vulcan with a pesky human side that he tried to downplay and wished to eradicate.

McCoy had to accept the truth about his personal relationship with the Vulcan. There was none. There was nothing between him and Spock outside the workplace. Even what McCoy thought was friendship probably hadn’t ever been true, either. They had been dueling debaters, and nothing else. He had simply been an annoyance to the Vulcan. Well, that was ended. And, he realized, that fact hurt, too.

But he didn’t have to endure his suffering. He might be dumb, but he certainly didn’t have to stay stupid. He could always distance himself from the pain. He still had free will. He could still leave.

 

Jim Kirk had told him many wise, true facts, and Spock knew that he had much to think about. 

How, suddenly, were he and McCoy cast in the role of potential lovers? It felt as if they had skipped a step. Then Spock nodded to himself. It felt that way because they had indeed skipped a step, the mutual friendship stage of their relationship. Spock frowned. Perhaps that’s why they had never been the comfortable friends that he and Kirk were. A different relationship between he and McCoy had been intended all along.

At least he and McCoy had been comfortable enough with each other to have worked together. Now, the paradigms had shifted. The two men could go forward or backward with their relationship They could either be lovers or the merest of acquaintances who happened to be crew mates on the Enterprise. There was no way they could return to what they had been just before Spock had visited that damned planet with its enticing flowers from Hell.

Kirk wanted him to take a chance. But could he? And Kirk wasn’t going to help him anymore. It had to be Spock’s doing. Would he choose himself, or McCoy?

The answer had always been so clear before. To walk away without a backward glance, and let the pieces of his departure fall where they might.

He could still do that. He breathed deeply, freely. Walk away, and let these Earthlings have their lives without him. He would have his life without them.

It hit him so hard, he would have stumbled if he had been walking.

To be without the company of Jim Kirk would be like ripping his soul from his body. They were bonded with a tie similar to that of blood brothers from an ancient century. They were two sides of a coin, different but fused. Why Kirk had chosen him, he had never understood. Kirk could have his pick of best friend from all over the universe, but he had chosen Spock. He had seemed to need Spock as he needed no other person. That was indeed an awesome privilege and responsibility. Spock would miss Kirk as he would a leg or an arm. Kirk was a part of him.

But to be without the company of Leonard McCoy would break whatever heart he possessed. He could not live without McCoy, but he could not tell him that. No wonder McCoy was frustrated. It would serve him right if McCoy would have nothing to do with him for the rest of eternity.

The rest of eternity.

Such a wave of loneliness struck Spock, he thought he would collapse under its weight. To think of all the empty, lonely years yawning before him was unbearable. 

Spock would outlive Leonard by many years anyway because Spock was Vulcan with a naturally longer life span. And Leonard was already older. But if they could have a day, an hour, together, knowing they were special to each other, then he would have his memories. It would be enough to sustain him until he could rejoin Leonard in whatever came afterwards.

He had no choice in these facts. But he could change one. He could try to regain Leonard’s affection for he knew now that he, too, not only wanted it, he needed it.

In that moment, he realized also that he could do without many things in his life and survive, but the loss of Kirk and McCoy was not one of them. Like it or not, they meant life to him, not just living that life with meaning, but life itself.

He could go back to Vulcan and undergo Kolinar. But one thought stopped him besides the pain he would bring to Jim Kirk. He could not rid himself of the image of McCoy growing more bitter and resigned and quieter as the years rolled along hollowly for him. All because Spock had walked away. How could he add to another person’s sorrow? Especially if that person were someone he loved so very, very much.


	11. Chapter 11

Leonard McCoy sat in his quarters and shut off the device that had played the recording of Spock begging to be taken to him. How many times had McCoy listened to that recording just this evening alone? He had every word, every breath, every inflection memorized, and still he replayed it. Sometime during the bleak years ahead he might forget the details of the Vulcan‘s face and body, but McCoy would always have his voice.

He stared ahead. It was high time that McCoy should be going to his lonely bed. His shift was long over, and the Enterprise’s lighting had been reduced to artificial night for hours. And he was tired, so tired. He could barely keep his eyes open, but he doubted that he would sleep. For sleeping requires awakening, and what was the use of doing that? 

“Come,” he mumbled absently to the buzz at his door, then pulled himself back to the present. Who could it possibly be? Except for the night staff, very few people should even be about. 

His door whished open. Spock stared at him, then entered. 

McCoy turned away. “What are you doing here, Commander?”

“I came to apologize.”

McCoy frowned, then stood up. “Apologize?”

“Yes. I have wronged you, and I wish to tell you that I am sorry.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that. I know how difficult that must have been for you to say.” He saw that Spock’s relief was apparent.

“Thank you for acknowledging that,” Spock said carefully.

McCoy turned aside. “Now go back and tell Jim Kirk that he did a good job coaching you.”

“Jim does not know that I am here.”

McCoy glanced at him sharply. “Oh? You thought this apology up on your own?” 

“Jim told me to trust you. I hoped that meant that you would listen to me before asking me to leave. I felt that you might be feeling great sorrow, and I wanted to ease it.”

McCoy blinked. “Now you’ve developed empathy? Well, at least maybe you’ll stop to consider the feelings of others and how your actions and words could affect them. It’s the greatest gift, outside of true love, that you’ll ever receive.”

“It is a human gift.”

“But a gift, nonetheless.”

“I am becoming too human.”

“Then what the hell are you going to do about it?!” McCoy demanded in a more exasperated voice than he’d intended.

“I have always believed that I could return to Vulcan and undergo Kolinar.”

“Then why don’t you do that?” McCoy demanded in the tired, exasperated voice that felt right. “Just go ahead and do it and stop jerking us around.” 

“Doctor?”

“You’ve threatened to do this for years, so go ahead. Get the suspense over. Jim will learn to live without you in time, I guess, but he’ll never feel the same about living after you leave him. Are you proud to crush the life out of a man who has loved you so much and done so much for you? I guess you are alien to us, after all. After all we’ve been through together with you, you can just walk away.” He threw his hand into the air. “So, go on, get out. Good riddance, I say.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “No, no, that’s wrong. Riddance is never good. In this case, it would just be sad.” 

“Doctor? I do not want to hurt Jim.”

McCoy felt a stab. Then Spock didn’t mind if he hurt him? What should McCoy expect, though? After all, he was third wheel in the mighty twosome of Kirk and Spock.

“Of course, you’ll hurt Jim. Why wouldn‘t you?” His voice was tired, so tired. “Jim is human. Humans miss other people when they leave, but how would you know that? You come among us, we get to know you, and then you leave without a backward glance and with no regrets. Well, that‘s not how it works with us humans. We got so we cared about you, but that doesn‘t impress you any, does it? You go blithely off into the sunset with your conscience clear and no emotional baggage. The stupid Earthlings can solve their own problems with their feelings. Love us and leave us, that‘s you, alright. Let us care about you and then show us your back.” He slapped the side of his chair with the flat of his hand. “You do know how to twist the knife, don‘t you? And you don‘t even realize how deeply you plunge it.” 

“I do not want to hurt you, either, and I can see that I have. I am sorry about that.”

“Too little, too late, Commander,“ McCoy announced breezily, then he frowned. “I guess I was wrong about your learning empathy, and Jim and I were just plain wrong about you in so many ways. Period. Okay, you’ve said your piece. Now, get out.”

Spock winced as McCoy’s words stabbed him in the human part of his heart. “I am truly sorry.“ When all he saw was McCoy’s stony face, he lowered his head and started for the door.

“Spock, wait.”

Spock turned.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair, it wasn’t nice, and it wasn’t true. I can’t let you leave like that. Life for Jim and me would’ve been a lot poorer without you in it. We were honored, very honored, to have known you. And we certainly weren’t wrong about you. It‘s been a privilege to serve with you and a privilege to have known you.”

Spock looked relieved. “Thank you.”

“It seems like every time I tell you exactly what I think about you, I have to apology because I make myself feel bad as well as you. So I guess I better stop doing that.” McCoy bit his lips together, but knew what he had to say next was for the best, the best for Spock. “And about the Kolinar. If you feel that this is really the logical path for you to take, then you should follow it. Don‘t let any concern for your life with us influence you. To thyself be true. No greater words were ever spoken. Do what is best for you. You deserve it.”

“I appreciate that, Doctor.“ He paused. “That is your empathy for me?“

McCoy nodded. “Yes. You need to find your own happiness.“

“I believe I have.“

McCoy grimaced, then put on a brave face for the being who would never return his friendship, let alone anything more. Spock was lost. He would do the Kolinar. “Good for you.“

“You said a greater gift than empathy was true love. How would I know if I have found that?”

McCoy smiled sadly. “The other person will sacrifice for you, gladly,” he said in the tired voice he couldn’t shake. “You will sacrifice. Gladly.”

“As you just did when you said I should do Kolinar if that’s what I really felt I should do? Because that is what a true friend would say?”

McCoy found the courage to look at Spock with sincerity on his face. “Yes.”

“Even if you never see me again?”

And now for the Academy Award winning performance. “Yes. I want you to be at peace.”

Spock looked at McCoy steadily. “What if I think I have found true love?”

The stab to McCoy’s heart was so sharp he could scarcely breathe. He did not want to be giving romantic advice, just so Spock could romance someone else. But here the Vulcan was, trusting and eager for support.

“Then I would say that person was very lucky.”

“How do I tell that person, Doctor?”

“With your heart,” McCoy answered softly. “With your whole heart. It should be so full that the love is spilling out of your eyes.”

“Thank you. You are a good friend. I appreciate your advice. Now I need to tell that person, right?“ 

“It would be the logical thing to do.”

Soft tears formed in Spock’s eyes, and a gentle smile teased the corners of his mouth. He looked so sincere.

What if he said someone else’s name, though? McCoy couldn’t imagine who it could possibly be, outside of Jim, but there was always the chance.

What if Spock were teasing or baiting him? The Vulcan was capable of that. The alien might just think he understood empathy. He wouldn’t understand how he could crush the feelings of a mere Earthling by savage callousness. Spock had done it before when he had so cruelly called McCoy an old romantic.

But McCoy’s real fear was what if it were his name Spock spoke? And meant it? Could McCoy be all that Spock needed? He doubted himself, even if Spock didn’t. Could McCoy dare to bet all, to win all, to revel in the victory? Jim Kirk wouldn’t have hesitated. Kirk grabbed Life and bit huge hunks out just for the hell of it. But Leonard McCoy wasn’t Jim Kirk. It was lonely in McCoy’s world, but it was secure. As long as he built the walls high and didn’t really let anyone in, he was safe. Kirk wasn’t a hazard to his world, but Spock was. Spock could break his heart and kill his very soul.

McCoy lost his nerve. He couldn’t take the chance, but he wasn‘t liking himself very much for being the coward he was going to be.

He broke the spell, turned, and walked away. Simple as that. “Go back to Vulcan or wherever you want. I don’t care, anymore. Just get lost, you pointed-eared creep,” he muttered. McCoy closed his eyes in pain. He hadn’t intended calling the alien a creep.

“A creep? I do not understand.”

McCoy straightened and rolled his eyes to the far wall. “That makes two of us, Spock. I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to call you a name.”

“And you have not before?”

“You’re right,” McCoy said. “But ‘hobgoblin’ almost seems like part of your name now.”

“Perhaps it is to you.”

“You’re right again, of course.” He felt steady enough to turn to face Spock and even managed a weak smile. “Ever notice I don’t argue with you when we’re not talking about philosophy?”

“It might also be because I am right.”

“But don’t you see?!” he implored, stepping forward with his right hand extended. “That makes me right, too!”

“Of course, it does. And very astute, I might add.”

“Then, why? Why are we arguing?!”

“I am not arguing. I am simply stating facts. You, Doctor McCoy, are the one who is arguing.”

McCoy took another step. “Why, you green-blooded--” His face cleared and he stopped. “I’m sorry. I can’t hurt you like that anymore.”

“Doctor?”

McCoy turned away. “I’ve called you those things for so long, they’ve become a part of your name, a part of your identity, to me. I’ve got to stop doing that. It isn’t right. It isn’t fair. It isn’t true! It‘s not how I think of you. Not anymore. Not that I ever did. You just get me so frustrated.”

McCoy could hear Spock step toward him. “Doctor?” he asked with worry in his voice. “Is there a problem?” 

“Not with you,” McCoy said to the empty space in front of him. “It’s me! I’m prejudiced! I’m mean! I’m half-human!” That seemed nasty, even to McCoy, and it cleared his head. “I mean that in a metaphysical sense. You, on the other hand, are literally half-human.”

McCoy could hear Spock moving closer toward him. “There is a problem.”

“Stop being nice. I don’t deserve it.“

“Are you ill?“

Why was Spock being so nice, so concerned, McCoy wondered. McCoy could take anything except blatant concern. Anger, belligerence, anything but concern.

And why was the alien coming closer? McCoy could feel him on his body radar, and alarm bells were starting to go off.

Stay away, stay away, he wanted to scream. I can’t stand it if you get too close. I might grab you and hug you and startle the hell out of you! And then you’ll know how sordid and depraved I really am. You’ll realize that I am truly the alien in this room. And I don’t want you to know any of that about me. I’d rather you’d walk away before we’re both disillusioned forever. Before you learn to hate me, my one, my only--

“Doctor?“

McCoy’s body radar reached dangerous heights. Spock was not only behind him, he was right behind him!

Oh, hell, McCoy thought. He knew he couldn’t move; he was frozen in this space and time. He realized he’d been here an eternity already. Another eternity started in the next breathless moment with the next jagged breath he managed to take.

Spock’s breath blew on the back of his neck causing McCoy to shiver. “What is the problem, Doctor McCoy?“ 

Your nearness! he wanted to yell. McCoy pinched his eyes shut. Oh, hell! “None, nothing,“ he managed to mumble.

Again the breath on the sensitive nape of his neck.

“I think there is. Perhaps you should let me examine you.“

Touching. Feeling. Handling!

No! Not THAT! “No, no, I’ll be alright.“ He tried to move away, but Spock’s hands settled lightly on his shoulders. McCoy began to tremble.

“There is a problem. You are shaking. Do you have a fever?”

“No, no,” McCoy gasped.

“I believe there is something wrong.” His hands tightened and became possessive. 

McCoy closed his eyes. He was incapable of moving.

“Your muscles are tense.” His hands, his wonderfully strong hands, began to massage McCoy’s shoulders. “Let me try to help.”

McCoy could barely breathe. From anyone else, it would be a simple massage. But from Spock‘s caressing hands, it was a kiss. A Vulcan kiss. The hands intensified their pressure. A rough Vulcan kiss. In spite of what he wished not to do, McCoy pulled his head back. He hoped he didn’t voice the moan he felt forming in his throat, a moan of pleasure he didn‘t wish to communicate to the Vulcan. 

“My dear, dear friend, you are unwell.”

“You are my friend?” McCoy asked softly in rhythm to the massaging hands.

“Yes, Doctor, and I do not want to lose you.”

“Oh, Spock, thank you! That means so much to hear.”

“You are welcome,” Spock answered carefully. One barrier down, Spock thought.

“I need to check your temperature,” Spock said, dangerously close to McCoy’s ear. The timbre of his voice had changed with the close proximity. It seemed deeper, more intimate. “You seem suddenly warmer, Doctor.” 

Warmer?! What the hell! What did that green-blooded hobgoblin expect when he’s breathing down my neck like a loaded freight train going up a sharp incline? And my breath is like that same loaded train going down the other side?

“Whatever is the matter?” Spock’s voice was light and mocking, and McCoy wondered if Spock had sensed the unspoken moan and realized that McCoy was his. “So warm,” Spock murmured. 

McCoy shivered. He could feel something softly tickling his neck. Spock’s breath? Spock’s LIPS?

“So very, very warm,” Spock whispered.

Then Spock dropped his lips on the nape of Leonard McCoy’s neck as gently as if a butterfly had settled on his skin.

McCoy jerked reflexively, but Spock’s hands held him tightly.

Aggg! ripped through McCoy’s mind. If there were ever a time for a silent scream, this was it. A vocal scream would’ve probably been called for, probably even recommended, considering the situation, but there was no way that McCoy could’ve supplied it. Silence would have to do.

McCoy did not even have the energy or the inclination to protest or to discourage the occupation of Spock‘s lips. McCoy’s whole concentration was on those lips softly kneading his neck, almost like a hand would do. McCoy wondered if Spock would rather use his sensitive hands with their pleasure centers, but was using his lips, instead, to please the Earthling.

And then those lips, those wonderful lips, were gone.

No!

But they hadn’t gone far.

“I was correct, Doctor,” Spock murmured against McCoy‘s flesh. “You are having a problem.”

New problem! New problem! McCoy wanted to yell as he became aware that he had somehow hardened. But he couldn’t relay this urgent information because he was using all his energy to suck oxygen in through his mouth.

“You are in a weakened state, Doctor. Allow me to assist you.“ 

Spock’s arms snaked around McCoy to hold him up and became iron bars around his chest. It hurt, but it felt good, too. Like he was protected. 

“You are tired, Doctor. You look so very tired. Let me shelter you. Let me be your strength.“

McCoy relaxed into the sanctuary of those arms.

Then Spock stepped closer and molded his body to McCoy’s backside, and they fused into one unit. And nothing could have stopped McCoy’s sigh of contentment. He leaned back into Spock’s body. It felt so good. It felt so natural. It felt so right. He was beloved. He wasn’t alone anymore. He was home.


	12. Chapter 12

And McCoy had stirred up a virile Vulcan. Spock had a problem, too, same as McCoy’s. McCoy could feel its bulk, and it was growing. McCoy had never seen that particular spot on Spock tumescent, but he figured he didn’t need much of an imagination to visualize it. Or feel it, as he had before in the cafeteria. Or be subjected to it, as he now realized he wanted to be.

Then Spock spread his legs and pressed his groin firmly against McCoy’s buttocks. Fever flared through McCoy’s body. There was no mistaking Spock’s hardness. McCoy could feel it through layers of two people’s clothing. And Spock apparently wanted no misunderstanding from McCoy for the reason or the purpose of that mass.

McCoy shuddered, vibrating like a dry leaf in the autumn breeze.

“You seem to be worsening,” Spock said with supposed solicitude. “I need to check your temperature again, Doctor. If you will permit me.“ Then those lips, those wonderful lips, were back on McCoy’s neck. And those arms gripped him in an iron vise while his hands began to massage whatever part of McCoy‘s chest they touched. 

Permit him? Was Spock joking?! As if McCoy had any say in what was happening to him. All he could do was accept it. All thought of movement or protest had long since vanished. Spock was running this show, and doing a damned fine job of it, McCoy would say. If he could say.

And then those lips, those wonderful lips, were moving. Moving quickly toward McCoy’s left ear. No, his throat. His neck just below the jaw line. Oh, hell!

Only when their destination became clear did the speed of the lips reduce. Then their progress was maddeningly slow, or so it seemed to McCoy. He was a willow in the wind and powerless to his fate. He didn’t want to think, to justify, to denounce. He just wanted it to happen. And it damned well looked like it was going to happen.

Why was that damned Vulcan taking so long?!

The lips stopped under McCoy’s left ear and teased that sensitive skin, then the defenseless lobe. Good! Good! Don’t go any further!

Then, almost as if Spock had heard, his lips began traveling again, traveling toward that sensitive spot under McCoy’s jaw, halfway between his left ear and his chin, the location of the carotid artery.

“No, no,” he moaned.

“I want it, too,” Spock insisted. “Because you want it.”

“Leave,” McCoy moaned. “Please. I beg you.”

“I would do anything for you, but not this. I cannot comply,” he murmured as his lips pulled back and left McCoy’s skin vibrating. He began to wallow McCoy‘s ear again. “I should walk away and leave you,” he whispered. “But I find that I cannot. I cannot. I cannot.” He tongued the inside of McCoy’s ear. 

A tremendous surge of electricity coursed through McCoy, and he feared he would electrocute the Vulcan. He lost all strength and clung to Spock’s arms. Then he was aware that Spock’s lips had left his ear. They were traveling, traveling, across McCoy’s throat. No, he wanted to protest, but he had no power left.

The lips became harder just as they touched that delicate spot under McCoy‘s jaw.

“Aggg!” McCoy screamed.

“Hush, hush, my pet,” Spock soothed. “Later, there will be plenty of time for screaming. Later when you want to let me know how much I am pleasing you. Later when you find that you will not be able to quite form words.”

The words inflamed McCoy, and all he could do was listen. And shiver.

“Later when your whole world will consist of only my hands, my name, my body. Later when you will be my slave. Later when you will beg me to stay,” Spock half-whispered because he was so consumed by passion himself he could barely speak. “Then I will want to know,” he murmured. “Then I will be your slave as well as your master. What else could I be? I want to please you so much!”

Spock’s words stirred not only passion, but lust in McCoy and weakened him. He was happy that Spock was holding him.

Not only had McCoy stirred up an energetic man, it was a Vulcan with centuries of wild lovemaking in his genetic background. McCoy pictured wild horsemen on the never-ending steppes of central Asia humping with their equally wild women in a wind-buffered leather yurt.

Spock’s lips were suddenly back to McCoy’s ear with wet, impatient wallowing, and then his teeth bit down hard on McCoy’s earlobe.

Again the electricity shot through McCoy. He gasped and felt like swooning. But there was no time for swooning.

Spock pressed down on that tender neck and smiled at McCoy’s moan. “You will find that you will be eager to tell me what to do next. You will find that I can be very accommodating.” 

McCoy wanted to accommodate Spock, too. His right hand reached up and grabbed Spock’s right hand. He began to squeeze and stroke the warm flesh. 

McCoy heard Spock’s breath catch. Lust had burst forth in the alien.

“Because you want it,” McCoy managed to whisper. “I want it, too.”

“Beloved,” Spock whispered and pressed McCoy’s hand back firmly. 

McCoy felt a tingle in his hand and knew it was nothing compared to what Spock must be experiencing. But he could learn, he could learn. Just as Spock was learning what to do with his mouth. And not doing a bad job of it, either.

McCoy lifted his head to the right to help Spock, but knew that the Vulcan was straining unnaturally. McCoy didn’t want him to injure himself.

“Damned shoulder,” Spock muttered and spun McCoy so that they were facing. They stared at each other in startled, naked awareness. A pulse beat in McCoy’s throat, about where his neck was the wettest. Spock was having a difficult time breathing, too.

Here they were, as they had never seen each other before. Aroused, stripped clean of everything but feeling, neither willing to walk away, neither wanting to walk away. Both scared, both hopeful.

And neither was thinking of philosophical tenets or who was right in his viewpoints. 

McCoy reached out his right hand, grabbed Spock’s left, and began to squeeze it.

Spock closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “I love your hands so much,” Spock whispered.

“There’s more to me than a pair of hands.”

Spock opened his eyes. “I know! And I love it all!”

“What about the Kolinar?”

“I give that up gladly. That is my gift to you.”

“You can’t! If it means so much to you!”

“You released me. But I cannot go. Not now. Not ever.”

“You would trade that? For me?”

“I have! It is such a small thing now.” 

“This is all there is, Spock.”

The Vulcan smiled. “It is enough. It is the universe.”

McCoy’s face contorted. He barely kept the tears from flowing.

Spock frowned. “Doctor? Are you sad?”

“No.”

“Then why do you look so sad?”

“I am not sad,” he whispered. “How did I ever get so lucky?”

“So, I am enough?”

McCoy’s face cleared. “For ten lifetimes.”

And another barrier went down.

Spock reached out his right hand, that hand awakened just now by McCoy’s ministrations, and brushed it across McCoy’s neck. As if in answer, McCoy tilted his head back and exposed more neck area. Spock didn’t need a second invitation. And as Spock’s mouth dropped on that delicious expanse, McCoy thought, Jim talked to this damned pointy-eared bastard. Or else why did Spock know just exactly where to go?

McCoy grabbed Spock’s hand roughly and hoped he didn’t hurt him. The only thing it did to Spock was make him open his mouth and begin sucking McCoy’s flesh. McCoy brought Spock’s hand up to his mouth and suckled the long fingers. He was rewarded when he felt Spock’s tongue circling a path on his neck.

McCoy could feel his own excess saliva running down his neck and turning cool. He knew Spock could feel it, too. McCoy hadn’t realized what a powerful aphrodisiac ordinary spit could be. McCoy knew where it had been.

Neither could hide their mutual moans. Spock must’ve been thinking about the spit, too.

Damned that Kirk! Somewhere that gloating bastard was congratulating himself with a smug look on that too handsome face. Who would guess that Kirk would use subtlety, could even understand it? Kirk, who crashed around, bending wills by sheer strength and commando tactics. Kirk, who could be as inconspicuous as a fever blister on the lip of the prom queen at the crowning ceremony. Kirk, who never minced words or showed any lack of testosterone. How did he know the gentle arts of subtlety? But he knew! And by Jupiter’s moons, he had used it! He knew, better than McCoy had known! And he had shared that knowledge with Spock!

Damned that Kirk! Just what I wanted! And just what I wanted from--

“Spock,” he moaned around Spock’s fingers and knew that he had discovered something he could love better than the practice of medicine.

“Yes, my pet?” Spock mumbled against his throat. He looked up into McCoy’s smoky eyes. “What is it you require?”

Spock had misunderstood. McCoy just needed to say his name, to hear Spock respond to it, to know that the Vulcan was really here.

“Oh, yes, I nearly forgot. Your lips.” His wet fingers left McCoy’s mouth and traced across McCoy’s lips. It was like a line of cold fire. Surely there were visible sparks to be seen.

McCoy squeezed his eyes shut and breathed deeply. His pulse quickened, if that were possible.

“You do not wish to look at me?” Spock asked in disappointment.

McCoy opened his eyes and hoped they were shining with all the love he had waiting for the Vulcan. “I never want to look at anything else.”

Spock smiled, a sweet smile that made McCoy fall more in love with him, if that were possible.

As Spock’s mouth approached his, McCoy murmured, “My Vulcan. My everything.”

“My Earthling,” Spock murmured back. “My own.”

And before his personal universe reduced itself to nothing but Spock’s name and touch and taste, McCoy managed to whisper a heartfelt, “Thank you, Jim.” 

“What?“ Spock asked as his warm breath blew on McCoy face.

“Just thanking our fearless leader for his part in all this.“ Why were those luscious lips still inches from his own? “You know,” McCoy said in a teasing voice, “the guy we both love?“

“Jim Kirk is my best friend, and I love him like a brother. But I am not in love with him. There is a difference, you know.”

“I know. A big difference.“ His eyes flicked over Spock’s face. He couldn’t quite believe any of this yet. It still had an unreal quality to it, caused perhaps by the lateness of the hour and his intense fatigue. “Who’s the lucky jerk who gets you then?” he asked in a half teasing, half hopeful voice as his broad grin lit up his blue, blue eyes. 

Spock stared at him. “I hope I am looking at him.”

McCoy’s smile gentled as his eyes flicked over Spock’s face again. “You are,” he answered softly. “You are looking at him. Darlin‘, my darlin‘. Always,“ he added shyly, wistfully, in his soft Georgian accent . He saw the endearment register with Spock to be gratefully, greedily taken in. McCoy, you lucky, lucky bastard, he thought, don‘t mess this up. His eyes did one more route around the face that was so dear to him and becoming dearer by the moment. “You’ve been here all along, not saying anything. Why didn’t you speak up? Why didn’t you tell me what was really going on between us when we were arguing?”

“Because I did not know, until--”

McCoy nodded. “Yeah. I know. Until Jim started pulling strings. He doesn’t exactly look like what I’ve always thought Cupid would look like, but he’ll do for us.” He mentally crossed his fingers and hoped Spock wouldn’t challenge the ‘for us.’

“I did not want to take too much of a chance, in case my feelings were not returned. I did not want to lose you completely. I wanted to at least keep your friendship.”

Some things never change, McCoy thought as he mentally uncrossed his fingers and considered the countless, unknown people who had suffered from unrequited love down across endless time. “Me, neither. It took the planet’s narcotic plant to rid you of your inhibitions, and I‘m glad it did.”

“Then it began to sap my strength. It was turning its power against me. I knew my body was failing. I needed to get back to help, to--”

“--home and me. Do you know how that makes me feel? Through your fog and weakness, you wanted me to make you feel safe and well. I don’t know if I can live up to that challenge, you green-blooded hobgoblin.”

“I never thought I would hear you say that again.”

“I’m so sorry.” He stared at Spock’s face full of the sorrow that he had so recently felt. “Don’t ever let that happen to you again. I couldn‘t stand it if anything, anything at all, happens to you, you green-blooded hobgob--”

Then Spock’s mouth claimed his, and McCoy thought, Forget my neck. It wouldn’t be a bad place to visit, but my lips just got special. His lips. His lips. Oh, (expletive), his lips! 

“Beloved, do not cry.” 

Crying? Who’s crying? Then, he thought, Spock’s right. Oh, hell, I am crying! My cheeks are wet.

“--lin,” he mumbled against Spock’s lips. “Hobgoblin.“ He really, really should amend that, he thought as he puckered his lips slightly against Spock‘s in a farewell kiss (just for a moment, beloved, he thought, just for a moment) before pulling away from them. He smiled as his eyes flicked affectionately over Spock‘s face once again. That was beginning to be a pleasant pastime, one that he now could do whenever he wanted. “MY green-blooded hobgoblin!” he shouted with a wide grin slapped across his face. “MY green-blooded hobgo--Hrmpp!” he tried to say as Spock’s urgent mouth tried to stop all sound, then succeeded when McCoy‘s attention was fully attuned to that kiss. 

McCoy threw his arms around Spock’s shoulders as though he feared Spock would escape him. He hoped he had little to worry about.

He felt Spock’s hands slide behind his back and embrace him, and McCoy did the same to Spock. Then the embrace deepened as they ran their hands over each other‘s backs. McCoy knew what the exercise was doing for him; it must be driving the hand-sensitive Vulcan crazy.

Then McCoy felt those hands trail further down his body to clasp his buttocks, then pause. McCoy knew what Spock was asking, and it was big. The alien wanted access to the inside of McCoy’s body, to the very heart of his secret essence. Sure, the alien could take what he wanted; he was strong enough to demand and get anything. The Earthling would be powerless to stop his lusts. 

But Spock wanted this most treasured gift to be freely given, as McCoy would want it that way from him. A request and a consent that wouldn’t, or shouldn’t, come easily. An intimacy shared by two beings for whom intimacy didn’t come easily. 

McCoy didn’t hesitate. He ground his body against Spock’s groin in answer. Then he snaked his own hands down to Spock’s buttocks, clasped them, and waited.

Spock thrust his own groin against McCoy in reply. Neither one would be dominant. They would take their turns on the (gasp) top. And on the (bigger gasp) bottom.

But now for the answer to the burning question, Who would be first on the bottom?

Spock’s fingers on either side of McCoy‘s backside tried to draw McCoy‘s butt cheeks apart.

Okay, that’s settled, McCoy thought through his passionate fog. Me on top second.

But Spock’s fingers were having little luck touching McCoy’s secret entrance through his Star Fleet clothing.

Damn uniform, McCoy thought as he spread his legs apart to accommodate Spock’s searching fingers.

“I agree,” Spock murmured, and McCoy didn’t know if he had indeed spoken, or Spock had simply read his mind. Or if he had read Spock’s mind. It really didn’t matter which at this point.

Bingo! McCoy thought, or perhaps hollered, as Spock’s hardened index and middle fingers touched McCoy’s unsuspecting anus and pressed inward. The virgin area tingled in anticipation. McCoy had no idea what the contact had done for Spock, but he felt the Vulcan shiver and knew that the alien had experienced something. And since it had come through Spock‘s sexually sensitive hands, McCoy figured it was a really big something for Spock. Spock didn’t realize that McCoy had felt excited, too.

You didn’t have to be a Vulcan to appreciate what hands could do. But it probably helped.

Leonard McCoy knew a system shattering revelation was in his future, his very near future, something that would probably put him in the company of the angels. And he could give this surrender, this rebirth, this joy back to his partner. Later, much later. Much, much later. He got to go first on the bottom, and he knew he was going to be an oinker, a piggy, a regular glutton when it came to being satisfied. He hoped he wouldn’t kill the Vulcan with his demands for performance. Maybe it would just wear the alien down so McCoy could do what he wanted with him. To shudder and feel helpless beneath the alien, to have the alien shudder and feel helpless beneath him! Their options were endless! And what he wanted most was to please.

Maybe they could even get back eventually to discussing philosophy. You know, just to keep the sexual tension going. Their options were indeed endless!

As McCoy felt Spock begin to fumble awkwardly with their clothing, McCoy knew it was time for disrobing and for making new discoveries about each other of an earthier sort. He hoped he wouldn’t disappoint; he knew he wouldn’t be disappointed with what he found. The lean, athletic body. The supple, hard muscles. That black hair over the torso that would be the silkiest mat to lie against. Then he grinned to himself and knew that if he felt that way, so would Spock. Bodies were just part of the package they were getting and offering.

McCoy also knew that what was to happen after that was probably as close as he would ever get to a religious experience. He would belong to the church of Spock and McCoy, a very exclusive sect. There would be only two members. Three, if Jim Kirk wanted to join. And he would be more than welcomed.

Spock seemed to have read McCoy’s mind once again. With a hard look and a renewed urgency, Spock’s tongue forced McCoy’s mouth open and brought McCoy back to an all-consuming present.

And then Dr. Leonard Horatio McCoy got very, very busy.


	13. Chapter 13

Jim Kirk leaned back in his reclining chair in his quarters. Somewhere, he didn’t know exactly where, perhaps in one of their quarters, there were two less lonely people in the universe tonight. If he were a voyeur, he would like to be watching them making those first few awkward attempts at loving each other physically. He figured they would be gentle and shy with each other and have stars shining in their eyes. The wonderment of discovering the texture of the other’s skin. The heady realization that the other person was really here and would probably be here in the morning! And in this case, Kirk figured, neither would be disappointed or hurt. He knew the two too well, knew of their past pride, their current hope, their future thankfulness. He knew how they would protect each other, because they had always done that, even when they hadn’t realized it. He had, though, and wondered how they could be so blind. For the other two were basically good people, or he would’ve never been attracted to them. Just, not, in THAT WAY!

Kirk wished it were true, that he could love another man THAT WAY. He was just having too much fun with the other sex, though. And the ladies seemed to appreciate his efforts, too. 

His two friends were two beings who had fallen so deeply in love with each other that they had not recognized it, although other people did. What was so obvious eluded them, making their relationship bittersweet and chaotic. Once they would admit their mutual attraction, gave into it, and resolved it, life would be much calmer for them. Or maybe they’d continue the bickering simply because they enjoyed it.

Kirk wondered how they were doing. He remembered that awe of the first time with someone who was truly special and not just a casual fling. How powerful, how pure, how sacred. How long ago, though, had he become jaded with the whole process and simply taken part in the rutting? Then he smiled. Rutting ain’t bad, Captain James T. Kirk. Rutting ain’t bad!

Kirk’s grin was crafty as he sipped at his drink and raised an eyebrow, like Spock would do. Those two never had a chance! Not with him pulling the strings. Looks like by now they’d know him and the way he operated. He wasn’t above hedging a bet. Or having more than one bet on the table at a time.

Or betting on a sure thing.

Kirk froze. What if it had been a sure thing? What if they had both been using him?! What if he’d been the device, the tool, that each had needed to prod the other? None of the matchmaking would’ve worked if they hadn’t been ready for it.

And that house in their futures? They could probably get along with only two bedrooms after tonight. Hell, the other two guys would probably settle for a one-man cot in a closet, just as long as the closet had a sturdy door on it.

Kirk blinked. He was suddenly the third wheel in this group. But he figured they’d let him hang with them. They still might need a referee, especially after the honeymoon glow wore off.

Hell, they might as well get the three-bedroom house. They might like to spice it up occasionally with an argument. Knowing them, they probably would. During a fight, there would probably be a lot of door slamming and loud yelling from McCoy and smug looks from a complacent Spock followed by quiet, quiet nights when Kirk wouldn’t see anything of his housemates for hours, or days, even. Then they would finally emerged with sated looks from a lethargic McCoy and smug looks from a complacent Spock. Spock would have the same haughty, disdainful, mysterious demeanor about him as he always did, but there would be a new peace about him. McCoy, in spite of all of his erratic behavior, would ground his Vulcan. Between McCoy and Kirk, they would give the alien from two worlds but really of none the support and refuge he had always sought. 

Three bedrooms, it would be, then. 

And they would be having fun again, just not in space, anymore. And his two best friends, the two guys he could not live without, would be with him, because they could not live without him, either. 

He thought about the possibility of a physical relationship with one of them. Spock would’ve always been the logical choice, but Bones had a lot to offer. Damn! If he wasn’t careful, he’d plant a seed in his own mind and play Cupid for himself! He mentally shook himself. Didn’t need that. But still-- Maybe he’d better get his mind off guys by seeing if that cute new ensign had plans for the rest of the evening. She had looked at him with interest when she’d come on board the Enterprise, hadn’t she? She probably had heard of the escapades of Captain James T. Kirk, legendary on duty and off, and had wanted to find out for herself what all the yelling was about. Hmm, nice option.

And he wouldn’t have to do much persuading with her. His reputation would handle that.

Well, it had all come out well in the end. And in the end was where he was hoping one of his friends was getting it now, and good. He figured it would be McCoy on the receiving end the first time, then they’d do a swap. Just think of their options! But wouldn’t there be more options, if say, their captain made it a threesome? Maybe, sometime, he might like to get in on some of that action.

Kirk shook himself. Where had that come from? He better stop thinking about what his friends were doing, or he’d be down there with them, and soon.

Still, when he thought about it, would that be so bad? One should never ignore options, and Jim Kirk believed in options.

Damn! What was that ensign’s name again? She sure as hell wouldn’t need to do much persuading him, either. At this rate, they’d be lucky if they got the door closed in time.

Then he laughed, muttered McCoy’s expletive, and saluted his unseen friends with his drink. Here’s to you, guys! Live long and prosper!

Man, his life was good!

 

Spock lay on McCoy’s narrow bed in the dim light of artificial night and knew that soon the Enterprise would awaken with a new day. He also knew that there would be no appearance for him or McCoy outside this bedroom during this new day. Kirk would make excuses for their absence, for their captain would know that they were on their honeymoon.

McCoy lay asleep beside Spock with his top half sprawled across Spock’s chest. A possessive arm held McCoy firmly in place and Spock’s other hand was gently stroking McCoy’s head and face. Occasionally, Spock would run his hand up and down McCoy’s body. Then he would dare to touch McCoy’s hands, the hands he loved, lightly so as not to disturb the sleeping man, and be amazed that McCoy managed to respond with a sigh or a touch of his own.

His Earthling was exhausted, but Spock felt that every breath brought new energy into the weary man. Good, Spock thought with a wily smile. His Earthling would need his strength. Soon, very soon, they would do the wonderful joining again. Soon, Spock would sail once more beyond the stars in his own rocket ship euphemistically called Leonard McCoy‘s body. 

McCoy stirred and made sounds in his sleep, a sighing of satisfaction, an in-taking gasp of pain, sometimes almost a mewing. 

“Hush, my pet,” Spock murmured. “Hush. You are with me. You are safe.”

McCoy slurred Spock’s name, sighed in contentment, crawled one magic hand over Spock’s face, puckered his lips in a vague air kiss toward Spock‘s voice, rooted his face into Spock’s chest, gave Spock’s greenish flesh a real kiss, and went back to sleep.

McCoy was sore, Spock knew. He would be sorer. So would Spock. Eventually. Spock would know peace in his Earthling‘s arms because, eventually, surely, it would be his turn to surrender all.

The only problem, Spock thought, was that he wanted to experience what McCoy felt at those times of surrender, and McCoy wouldn't let him. Surely McCoy would like to have the experience of being on top. And, why, in the midst of things, when they were getting very, very excited, would McCoy burst into sounds that Spock swore were the grunting of hungry piglets and shout that he was an oinker? Maybe, if Spock ever got the chance, if McCoy ever allowed it, Spock would be making those sounds and declarations himself. If he ever got the chance, that is. 

Then Spock, a Vulcan who by nature needed very little sleep, gave into the exhaustion from his human half, nestled his head against McCoy’s, drew him closer in a gentle cuddle, kissed the top of his head, and went to sleep himself. 

Sometime during their bouts of lovemaking, Spock had surrendered his heart and soul as well as his body to his Earthling. His Earthling just hadn’t realized it yet. But Spock had. And as the last moments of consciousness escaped him now, the alien smiled. He was home, home, at last, in this Earthling‘s arms. His Earthling. Forever.

He had taken the last barrier down himself. Gladly. 

That is what you do for your own true love. 

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing dealing with Star Trek, including story lines and/or characters.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Three Little Words](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11210103) by [Esperata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata)




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